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BLACK BEAUTY 

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“ The first place I remember was a large pleasant meadow.” 


Black Beauty 

The Autobiography of a Horse 


By 

ANNA SEWELL 


With Colored Illustrations 
By JOHN M. BURKE 



NEW YORK 

THE PLATT & PECK CO. 


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COPYRIGHT, 1911 , BY 
THB PLATT & PECK COMPANY 


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€' Cl. A 2 050 15 



I 


CONTENTS 


PART I. 


CHAPTER 

I. 

My Early Home . 




PAGE 

9 

II. 

The Hunt 




16 

III. 

My Breaking In . 




22 

IV. 

Birtwick Park 




29 

V. 

A Fair Start 




34 

VI. 

Liberty 




41 

VII. 

Ginger 




44 

VIII. 

Ginger’s Story Continued 




52 

IX. 

Merrylegs . 




59 

X. 

A Talk in the Orchard 




65 

XI. 

Plain Speaking 




75 

XII. 

A Stormy Day 




81 

XIII. 

The Devil’s Trade Mark 




87 

XIV. 

James Howard 




95 

XV. 

The Old Ostler . 




101 

XVI. 

The Fire 




108 

XVII. 

John Manly’s Talk 




115 

XVIII. 

Going For the Doctor . 




122 

XIX. 

Only Ignorance . 




129 

XX. 

Joe Green . 




133 

XXI. 

The Parting . 




138 


PART II. 


XXII. 

Earlshall . . . . 

143 

XXIII. 

A Strike for Liberty .... 

152 

XXIV. 

The Lady Anne, or a Runaway Horse . 

158 

XXV. 

Reuben Smith 

173 


V 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XXVI. How It Ended ..... 180 

XXVII. Ruined, and Going Down Hill . . 185 

XXVIII. A Job Horse and His Drivers 190 

XXIX. Cockneys ...... 197 

XXX. A Thief ...... 208 

XXXI. A Humbug ...... 213 

PART III. 

XXXII. A Horse Fair 220 

XXXIII. A London Cab Horse .... 227 

XXXIV. An Old War Horse .... 234 

XXXV. Jerry Barker ..... 243 

XXXVI. The Sunday Cab ..... 255 

XXXVII. The Golden Rule. .... 264 

XXXVIII. Dolly and a Real Gentleman . . 271 

XXXIX. Seedy Sam . . . . . . 278 

XL. Poor Ginger. ..... 285 

XLI. The Butcher ..... 289 

XLII. The Election ..... 295 

XLIII. A Friend in Need . .... 299 

XLIV. Old Captain and His Successor . . 307 

XLV. Jerry’s New Year .... 3T7 

PART IV. 

XLVI. Jakes and the Lady .... 328 

XLVII. Hard Times ...... 335 

XLVIII. Farmer Thoroughgood and His Grand- 
son Willie ..... 343 

XLIX. My Last Home . . 352 

vi 


LIST OF COLORED PLATES 
AND ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

The first place I remember was a large pleasant meadow 

Frontispiece ^ 

My mother took him to town in a light gig . . . 13 ^ 

I found he was a very good rider . . . . . 36 ^ 

It was a great treat to be turned out into the orchard . 43 ^ 

Our greatest pleasure was when we were saddled for a riding 

party 65 ^ 

At Farmer Bushby’s 89 ^ 

We stopped at the principal hotel. . . . . 103^ 

On the road to Earlshall . . . . . 145 ^ 

She was a perfect horsewoman . . . . 158 ^ 

I have followed the hounds a great many times . . 161 ^ 

Reuben and Susan . . ..... 171 ^ 

With a joyful whinny I trotted up to her . . . 185 Y' 

The man took up my feet one by one .... 217 

“Yes, Dolly, as gentle as your own kitten ” . . . 225 / 

I wanted to keep my place at his side .... 240^ 

The morning rub-down ...... 245 ^ 

Harry took me to the forge ...... 313 w 

She put her face close to my neck and kissed me . . 327 v 

At Farmer Thoroughgood’s ...... 349 * 

“ Why, Beauty! Beauty! do you know me? ” . . 355 / 


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BLACK BEAUTY 


PART I 

CHAPTER I 

MY EARLY HOME 

T HE first place that I can well remember, 
was a large, pleasant meadow with a 
pond of clear water in it. Some shady 
trees leaned over it, and rushes and water-lilies 
grew at the deep end. Over the hedge on one side 
we looked into a plowed field, and on the other 
we looked over a gate at our master’s house, which 
stood by the roadside; at the top of the meadow 
was a plantation of fir trees, and at the bottom a 
running brook overhung by a steep bank. 


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BLACK BEAUTY 


While I was young I lived upon my mother’s 
milk, as I could not eat grass. In the daytime I 
ran by her side, and at night I lay down close by 
her. When it was hot, we used to stand by the 
pond in the shade of the trees, and when it was cold, 
we had a nice, warm shed near the plantation. 

As soon as I was old enough to eat grass, my 
mother used to go out to work in the daytime, and 
came back in the evening. 

There were six young colts in the meadow besides 
me; they were older than I was; some were nearly 
as large as grown-up horses. I used to run with 
them, and had great fun; we used to gallop all to- 
gether round and round the field, as hard as we 
could go. Sometimes we had rather rough play, 
for they would frequently bite and kick as well as 
gallop. 

One day, when there was a good deal of kicking, 
my mother whinnied to me to come to her, and then 
she said, 

“I wish you to pay attention to what I am going 
to say to you. The colts who live here are very 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


good colts, but they are cart-horse colts, and, of 
course, they have not learned manners. You have 
been well bred and well born; your father has a 
great name in these parts, and your grandfather 
won the cup two years at the Newmarket races; 
your grandmother had the sweetest temper of any 
horse I ever knew, and I think you have never seen 
me kick or bite. I hope you will grow up gentle 
and good, and never learn bad ways ; do your work 
with a good will, lift your feet up well when you 
trot, and never bite or kick even in play.” 

I have never forgotten my mother’s advice; I 
knew she was a wise old horse, and our master 
thought a great deal of her. Her name was Duch- 
ess, but he often called her Pet. 

Our master was a good, kind man. He gave us 
good food, good lodging, and kind words ; he spoke 
as kindly to us as he did to his little children. We 
were all fond of him, and my mother loved him 
very much. When she saw him at the gate, she 
would neigh with joy, and trot up to him. He 
would pat and stroke her and say, ‘‘Well, old Pet, 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


and how is your little Darkie?” I was a dull black, 
so he called me Darkie; then he would give me a 
piece of bread, which was very good, and some- 
times he brought a carrot for my mother. All the 
horses would come to him, but I think we were his 
favorites. My mother always took him to the town 
on a market day in a light gig. 

There was a plowboy, Dick, who sometimes 
came into our field to pluck blackberries from the 
hedge. When he had eaten all he wanted, he 
would have, what he called, fun with the colts, 
throwing stones and sticks at them to make them 
gallop. We did not much mind him, for we could 
gallop off; but sometimes a stone would hit and 
hurt us. 

One day he was at this game, and did not know 
that the master was in the next field; but he was 
there, watching what was going on ; over the hedge 
he jumped in a snap, and catching Dick by the arm, 
he gave him such a box on the ear as made him roar 
with the pain and surprise. As soon as we saw the 
master, we trotted up nearer to see what went on. 

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“My mother took him to town in a light gig.” 



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BLACK BEAUTY 


“Bad boy!” he said, “bad boy! to chase the 
colts. This is not the first time, nor the second, but 
it shall be the last — there — take your money and go 
home, I shall not want you on my farm again.” So 
we never saw Dick any more. Old Daniel, the man 
who looked after the horses, was just as gentle as 
our master, so we were well off. 


15 


CHAPTER II 


THE HUNT 

B EFORE I was two years old, a circumstance 
happened which I have never forgotten. 
It was early in the spring; there had been 
a little frost in the night, and a light mist still hung 
over the plantations and meadows. I and the other 
colts were feeding at the lower part of the field 
when we heard, quite in the distance, what sounded 
like the cry of dogs. The oldest of the colts raised 
his head, pricked his ears, and said, “There are the 
hounds!” and immediately cantered off, followed 
by the rest of us to the upper part of the field, 
where we could look over the hedge and see several 
fields beyond. My mother, and an old riding horse 
of our master’s were also standing near, and seemed 
to know all about it. 

“They have found a hare,” said my mother, “and 
if they come this way, we shall see the hunt,” 

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BLACK BEAUTY 


And soon the dogs were all tearing down the 
field of young wheat next to ours. I never heard 
such a noise as they made. They did not bark, nor 
howl, nor whine, but kept on a “yo! yo, o, o! yo! yo, 
o, o!” at the top of their voices. After them came a 
number of men on horseback, some of them in green 
coats, all galloping as fast as they could. The old 
horse snorted and looked eagerly after them, and 
we young colts wanted to be galloping with them, 
but they were soon away into the fields lower down ; 
here it seemed as if they had come to a stand; 
the dogs left off barking, and ran about every way 
with their noses to the ground. 

“They have lost the scent,” said the old horse, 
“perhaps the hare will get off.” 

“What hare?” I said. 

“Oh! I don’t know what hare; likely enough it 
may be one of our own hares out of the plantation ; 
any hare they can find will do for the dogs and men 
to run after;” and before long the dogs began their 
“yo! yo, o, o!” again, and back they came all to- 
gether at full speed, making straight for our 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


meadow at the part where the high bank and hedge 
overhang the brook. 

“Now we shall see the hare,” said my mother; 
and just then a hare wild with fright rushed by, and 
made for the plantation. On came the dogs, they 
burst over the bank, leaped the stream, and came 
dashing across the field, followed by the huntsmen. 
Six or eight men leaped their horses clean over, 
close upon the dogs. The hare tried to get through 
the fence; it was too thick, and she turned sharp 
round to make for the road, but it was too late; the 
dogs were upon her with their wild cries ; we heard 
one shriek, and that was the end of her. One of the 
huntsmen rode up and whipped off the dogs, who 
would soon have torn her to pieces. He held her up 
by the leg, torn and bleeding, and all the gentlemen 
seemed well pleased. 

As for me, I was so astonished that I did not at 
first see what was going on by the brook; but when 
I did look, there was a sad sight; two fine horses 
were down, one was struggling in the stream, and 
the other was groaning on the grass. One of the 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


riders was getting out of the water covered with 
mud, the other lay quite still. 

“His neck is broken,” said my mother. 

“And serves him right, too,” said one of the colts. 

I thought the same, but my mother did not join 
with us. 

“Well! no,” she said, “you must not say that; 
but though I am an old horse, and have seen and 
heard a great deal, I never yet could make out why 
men are so fond of this sport; they often hurt 
themselves, often spoil good horses, arid tear up the 
fields, and all for a hare or a fox, or a stag, that 
they could get more easily some other way; but we 
are only horses, and don’t know.” 

While my mother was saying this, we stood and 
looked on. Many of the riders had gone to the 
young man ; but my master, who had been watch- 
ing what was going on, was the first to raise him. 
His head fell back and his arms hung down, and 
every one looked very serious. There was no noise 
now; even the dogs were quiet, and seemed to know 
that something was wrong. They carried him to 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


our master’s house. I heard afterwards that it was 
young George Gordon, the squire’s only son, a fine, 
tall young man, and the pride of his family. 

There was now riding off in all directions to the 
doctor’s, to the farrier’s, and no doubt to Squire 
Gordon’s, to let him know about his son. When 
Mr. Bond, the farrier, came to look at the black 
horse that lay groaning on the grass, he felt him all 
over, and shook his head ; one of his legs was broken. 
Then some one ran to our master’s house and came 
back with a gun; presently there was a loud bang 
and a dreadful shriek, and then all was still; the 
black horse moved no more. 

My mother seemed much troubled; she said she 
had known that horse for years, and that his name 
was “Rob Roy;” he was a good bold horse, and 
there was no vice in him. She never would go to 
that part of the field afterwards. 

Not many days after, we heard the church bell 
tolling for a long time; and looking over the gate 
we saw a long strange black coach that was cov- 
ered with black cloth and was drawn by black 
20 


BLACK BEAUTY 


horses; after that came another and another and 
another, and all were black, while the bell kept toll- 
ing, tolling. They were carrying young Gordon 
to the churchyard to bury him. He would never 
ride again. What they did with Rob Roy I never 
knew ; but ’twas all for one little hare. 


21 


CHAPTER III 


MY BREAKING IN 

I WAS now beginning to grow handsome; my 
coat had grown fine and soft, and was bright 
black. I had one white foot, and a pretty 
white star on my forehead. I was thought very 
handsome; my master would not sell me till I was 
four years old; he said lads ought not to work like 
men, and colts ought not to work like horses till 
they were quite grown up. 

When I was four years old, Squire Gordon came 
to look at me. He examined my eyes, my mouth, 
and my legs; he felt them all down; and then I had 
to walk and trot and gallop before him ; he seemed 
to like me, and said, “When he has been well broken 
in, he will do very well.” My master said he would 
break me in himself, as he should not like me to be 
frightened or hurt, and he lost no time about it, 
for the next day he began. 


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BLACK BEAUTY 


Every one may not know what breaking in is, 
therefore I will describe it. It means to teach a 
horse to wear a saddle and bridle and to carry on 
his back a man, woman, or child; to go just the way 
they wish, and to go quietly. Besides this, he has 
to learn to wear a collar, a crupper, and a breech- 
ing, and to stand still while they are put on; then 
to have a cart or a chaise fixed behind him, so that 
he cannot walk or trot without dragging it after 
him; and he must go fast or slow, just as his driver 
wishes. He must never start at what he sees, nor 
speak to other horses, nor bite, nor kick, nor have 
any will of his own ; but always do his master’s will, 
even though he may be very tired or hungry; but 
the worst of all is, when his harness is once on, he 
may neither jump for joy nor lie down for weari- 
ness. So you see this breaking in is a great thing. 

I had of course long been used to a halter and a 
headstall, and to be led about in the field and lanes 
quietly, but now I was to have a bit and a bridle; 
my master gave me some oats as usual, and after a 
good deal of coaxing, he got the bit into my mouth, 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


and the bridle fixed, but it was a nasty thing! 
Those who have never had a bit in their mouths can- 
not think how bad it feels; a great piece of cold 
hard steel as thick as a man’s finger to be pushed 
into one’s mouth, between one’s teeth and over one’s 
tongue, with the ends coming out at the corner of 
your mouth, and held fast there by straps over your 
head, under your throat, round your nose, and un- 
der your chin ; so that no way in the world can you 
get rid of the nasty hard thing; it is very bad! yes, 
very bad! at least I thought so; but I knew my 
mother always wore one when she went out, and all 
horses did when they were grown up ; and so, what 
with the nice oats, and what with my master’s pats, 
kind words, and gentle ways, I got to wear my bit 
and bridle. 

Next came the saddle, but that was not half so 
bad; my master put it on my back very gently, 
whilst old Daniel held my head; he then made the 
girths fast under my body, patting and talking to 
me all the time; then I had a few oats, then a little 
leading about, and this he did every day till I be- 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


gan to look for the oats and the saddle. At length, 
one morning my master got on my back and rode 
me round the meadow on tlje soft grass. It cer- 
tainly did feel queer; but I must say I felt rather 
proud to carry my master, and as he continued to 
ride me a little every day, I soon became accus- 
tomed to it. 

The next unpleasant business was putting on the 
iron shoes; that too was very hard at first. My 
master went with me to the smith’s forge, to see 
that I was not hurt or got any fright. The black- 
smith took my feet in his hand one after the other, 
and cut away some of the hoof. It did not pain 
me, so I stood still on three legs till he had done 
them all. Then he took a piece of iron the shape 
of my foot, and clapped it on, and drove some nails 
through the shoe quite into my hoof, so that the 
shoe was firmly on. My feet felt very stiff and 
heavy, but in time I got used to it. 

And now having got so far, my master went on 
to break me to harness ; there were more new things 
to wear. First, a stiff heavy collar just on my neck, 

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BLACK BEAUTY 


and a bridle with great side-pieces against my eyes 
called blinkers, and blinkers indeed they were, for 
I could not see on either side, but only straight in 
front of me; next there was a small saddle with a 
nasty stiff strap that went right under my tail ; that 
was the crupper. I hated the crupper — to have 
my long tail doubled up and poked through that 
strap was almost as bad as the bit. I never felt 
more like kicking, but of course I could not kick 
such a good master, and so in time I got used to 
everything, and could work as well as my mother. 

I must not forget to mention one part of my 
training, which I have always considered a very 
great advantage. My master sent me for a fort- 
night to a neighboring farmer’s, who had a meadow 
which was skirted on one side by the railway. Here 
were some sheep and cows, and I was turned in 
among them. 

I shall never forget the first train that ran by. 
I was feeding quietly near the pales which sepa- 
rated the meadow from the railway, when I heard a 
strange sound at a distance, and before I knew 
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BLACK BEAUTY 

whence it came — with a rush and a clatter, and a 
puffing out of smoke — a long black train of some- 
thing flew by, and was gone almost before I could 
draw my breath. I turned, and galloped to the far- 
ther side of the meadow as fast as I could go, and 
there I stood snorting with astonishment and fear. 
In the course of the day many other trains went by, 
some more slowly; these drew up at the station 
close by, and sometimes made an awful shriek and 
groan before they stopped. I thought it very 
dreadful, but the cows went on eating very quietly, 
and hardly raised their heads as the black, frightful 
thing came puffing and grinding past. 

For the first few days I could not feed in peace; 
but as I found that this terrible creature never came 
into the field, or did me any harm, I began to dis- 
regard it, and very soon I cared as little about the 
passing of a train as the cows and sheep did. 

Since then I have seen many horses much 
alarmed and restive at the sight or sound of a steam 
engine ; but thanks to my good master’s care, I am 
as fearless at railway stations as in my own stable. 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


Now if any one wants to break in a young horse 
well, that is the way. 

My master often drove me in double harness with 
my mother, because she was steady, and could teach 
me how to go better than a strange horse. She told 
me the better I behaved, the better I should be 
treated, and that it was wisest always to do my best 
to please my master; “but,” said she, “there are a 
great many kinds of men ; there are good, thought- 
ful men like our master, that any horse may be 
proud to serve; but there are bad, cruel men, who 
never ought to have a horse or dog to call their own. 
Besides, there are a great many foolish men, vain, 
ignorant, and careless, who never trouble them- 
selves to think; these spoil more horses than all, 
just for want of sense; they don’t mean it, but they 
do it for all that. I hope you will fall into good 
hands ; but a horse never knows who may buy him, 
or who may drive him ; it is all a chance for us, but 
still I say, do your best wherever it is, and keep 
up your good name.” 


28 


CHAPTER IV 


BIRTWICK PARK 

A T THIS time I used to stand in the stable, 
and my coat was brushed every day till it 
shone like a rook’s wing. It was early in 
May, when there came a man from Squire Gor- 
don’s, who took me away to the Hall. My master 
said, “Good-by, Darkie; be a good horse, and al- 
ways do your best.” I could not say “good-by,” so 
I put my nose into his hand ; he patted me kindly, 
and I left my first home. As I lived some years 
with Squire Gordon, I may as well tell something 
about the place. 

Squire Gordon’s Park skirted the village of Birt- 
wick. It was entered by a large iron gate, at which 
stood the first lodge, and then you trotted along on 
a smooth road between clumps of large old trees; 
then another lodge and another gate, which 
brought you to the house and the gardens. Beyond 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


this lay the home paddock, the old orchard, and the 
stables. There was accommodation for many 
horses and carriages; but I need only describe the 
stable into which I was taken ; this was very roomy, 
with four good stalls; a large swinging window 
opened into the yard, which made it pleasant and 
airy. 

The first stall was a large square one, shut in 
behind with a wooden gate; the others were com- 
mon stalls, good stalls, but not nearly so large; it 
had a low rack for hay and a low manger for corn; 
it was called a loose box, because the horse that was 
put into it was not tied up, but left loose, to do as 
he liked. It is a great thing to have a loose box. 

Into this fine box the groom put me ; it was clean, 
sweet, and airy. I never was in a better box than 
that, and the sides were not so high but that I could 
see all that went on through the iron rails that were 
at the top. 

He gave me some very nice oats, he patted me, 
spoke kindly, and then went away. 

When I had eaten my corn, I looked around. In 


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BLACK BEAUTY 


the stall next to mine stood a little fat gray pony, 
with a thick mane and tail, a very pretty head, and 
a pert little nose. 

- I put my head up to the iron rails at the top of 
my box, and said, “How do you do? What is your 
name?” 

He turned round as far as his halter would allow, 
held up his head, and said, “My name is Merrylegs ; 
I am very handsome, I cany the young ladies on 
my back, and sometimes I take our mistress out in 
the low chair. They think a great deal of me, and 
so does James. Are you going to live next door to 
me in the box?” 

I said “Yes.” 

“Well, then,” he said, “I hope you are good- 
tempered; I do not like any one next door who 
bites.” 

Just then a horse’s head looked over from the 
stall beyond; the ears were laid back, and the eye 
looked rather ill-tempered. This was a tall chest- 
nut mare, with a long handsome neck; she looked 
across to me and said : 


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BLACK BEAUTY 


“So it is you who have turned me out of my box; 
it is a very strange thing for a colt like you to 
come and turn a lady out of her own home.” 

“I beg your pardon,” I said, “I have turned no 
one out ; the man who brought me put me here, and 
I had nothing to do with it ; and as to my being a 
colt, I am turned four years old, and am a grown- 
up horse ; I never had words yet with horse or mare, 
and it is my wish to live at peace.” 

“Well,” she said, “we shall see; of course I do not 
want to have words with a young thing like you.” 
I said no more. 

In the afternoon when she went out, Merrylegs 
told me all about it. 

“The thing is this,” said Merrylegs, “Ginger has 
a bad habit of biting and snapping; that is why 
they call her Ginger, and when she was in the loose 
box, she used to snap very much. One day she bit 
James in the arm and made it bleed, and so Miss 
Flora and Miss Jessie, who are very fond of me, 
were afraid to come into the stable. They used to 
bring me nice things to eat, an apple or a carrot, or 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


a piece of bread, but after Ginger stood in that box 
they dare not come, and I missed them very much. 
I hope they will now come again, if you do not bite.” 

I told him I never bit anything but grass, hay, 
and corn, and could not think what pleasure Ginger 
found it. 

“Well, I don’t think she does find pleasure,” says 
Merrylegs; “it is just a bad habit; she says no one 
was ever kind to her, and why should she not bite? 
Of course it is a very bad habit; but I am sure, if all 
she says be true, she must have been very ill-used 
before she came here. John does all he can to 
please her, and James does all he can, and our mas- 
ter never uses a whip if a horse acts right; so I 
think she might be good-tempered here; you see,” 
he said with a wise look, “I am twelve years old; 
I know a great deal, and I can tell you there is not 
a better place for a horse all round the country than 
this. John is the best groom that ever was, he has 
been here fourteen years; and you never saw such 
a kind boy as James is, so that it is all Ginger’s 
own fault that she did not stay in that box.” 


33 


CHAPTER V 


A FAIR START 

T HE name of the coachman was John 
Manly; he had a wife and one little child, 
and they lived in the coachman’s cottage, 
very near the stables. 

The next morning he took me into the yard and 
gave me a good grooming, and just as I was going 
into my box with my coat soft and bright, the 
Squire came in to look at me, and seemed pleased. 
“John,” he said, “I meant to have tried the new 
horse this morning, but I have other business. You 
may as well take him around after breakfast ; go by 
the common and the Highwood, and back by the 
watermill and the river; that will show his paces.” 

“I will, sir,” said John. After breakfast he came 
and fitted me with a bridle. He was very particu- 
lar in letting out and taking in the straps, to fit my 
head comfortably ; then he brought the saddle, that 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


was not broad enough for my back; he saw it in a 
minute and went for another, which fitted nicely. 
He rode me first slowly, then a trot, then a canter, 
and when we were on the common he gave me a 
light touch with his whip, and we had a splendid 
gallop. 

“Ho-ho! my boy/’ he said, as he pulled me up, 
“you would like to follow the hounds, I think, 
wouldn’t you?” 

As we came back through the Park we met the 
Squire and Mrs. Gordon walking; they stopped, 
and John jumped off. 

“Well, John, how does he go?” 

“First-rate, sir,” answered John, “he is as fleet 
as a deer, and has a fine spirit too ; but the lightest 
touch of the rein will guide him. Down at the end 
of the common we met one of those traveling carts 
hung all over with baskets, rugs, and such like ; you 
know, sir, many horses will not pass those carts 
quietly; he just took a good look at it, and then 
went on as quiet and pleasant as could be. They 
were shooting rabbits near the Highwood, and a 
35 


BLACK BEAUTY 


gun went off close by ; he pulled up a little and 
looked, but did not stir a step to right or left. I 
just held the rein steady and did not hurry him, 
and it’s my opinion he has not been frightened or 
ill-used while he was young.” 

“That’s well,” said the Squire, “I will try him 
myself to-morrow.” 

The next day I was brought up for my master. 
I remembered my mother’s counsel and my good 
old master’s, and I tried to do exactly what he 
wanted me to do. I found he was a very good 
rider, and thoughtful for his horse too. When we 
came home, the lady was at the hall door as he 
rode up. 

“Well, my dear,” she said, “how do you like 
him?” 

“He is exactly what John said,” he replied; “a 
pleasanter creature I never wish to mount. What 
shall we call him?” 

“Would you like Ebony?” said she. “He is as 
black as ebony.” 

“No, not Ebony.” 


36 



4 ‘ I found he was a very good rider.” 





























































































BLACK BEAUTY 


“Will you call him Blackbird, like your uncle’s 
old horse?” 

“No, he is far handsomer than old Blackbird ever 
was.” 

“Yes,” she said, “he is really quite a beauty, and 
he has such a sweet, good-tempered face and such a 
fine, intelligent eye — what do you say to calling him 
Black Beauty?” 

“Black Beauty — why, yes, I think that is a very 
good name. If you like, it shall be his name,” and 
so it was. 

When John went into the stable, he told James 
that the master and mistress had chosen a good 
sensible English name for me, that meant some- 
thing, not like Marengo, or Pegasus, or Abdallah. 
They both laughed, and James said, “If it was not 
for bringing back the past, I should have named 
him Rob Roy, for I never saw two horses more 
alike.” 

“That’s no wonder,” said John, “didn’t you 
know that Farmer Grey’s old Duchess was the 
mother of them both?” 


37 


BLACK BEAUTY 


I had never heard that before, and so poor Rob 
Roy who was killed at that hunt was my brother! 
I did not wonder that my mother was so troubled. 
It seems that horses have no relations; at least, 
they never know each other after they are sold. 

John seemed very proud of me; he used to make 
my mane and tail almost as smooth as a lady’s hair, 
and he would talk to me a great deal; of course I 
did not understand all he said, but I learned more 
and more to know what he meant , and what he 
wanted me to do. I grew very fond of him, he was 
so gentle and kind, he seemed to know just how a 
horse feels, and when he cleaned me, he knew the 
tender places, and the ticklish places; when he 
brushed my head, he went as carefully over my 
eyes as if they were his own, and never stirred up 
any ill-temper. 

James Howard, the stable boy, was just as gen- 
tle and pleasant in his way, so I thought myself well 
off. There was another man who helped in the 
yard, but he had very little to do with Ginger 
and me. 


38 


BLACK BEAUTY 


A few days after this I had to go out with Ginger 
in the carriage. I wondered how we should get on 
together; but except laying her ears back when I 
was led up to her, she behaved very well. She did 
her work honestly, and did her full share, and I 
never wish to have a better partner in double har- 
ness. When we came to a hill, instead of slacken- 
ing her pace, she would throw her weight right into 
the collar, and pull away straight up. We had 
both the same sort of courage at our work, and 
John had oftener to hold us in than to urge us for- 
ward; he never had to use the whip with either of 
us; then our paces were much the same, and I 
found it very easy to keep step with her when trot- 
ting, which made it pleasant, and master always 
liked it when we kept step well, and so did John. 
After we had been out two or three times together 
we grew quite friendly and sociable, which made 
me feel very much at home. 

As for Merrylegs, he and I soon became great 
friends; he was such a cheerful, plucky, good- 
tempered little fellow, that he was a favorite with 
39 


BLACK BEAUTY 


every one, and especially with Miss Jessie and 
Flora, who used to ride him about in the orchard, 
and have fine games with him and their little dog 
Frisky. 

Our master had two other horses that stood in 
another stable. One was Justice, a roan cob, used 
for riding, or for the luggage cart; the other was an 
old brown hunter, named Sir Oliver; he was past 
t work now, but was a great favorite with the master, 
who gave him the run of the park; he sometimes did 
a little light carting on the estate, or carried one of 
the young ladies when they rode out with their 
father; for he was very gentle, and could be trusted 
with a child as well as Merrylegs. The cob was a 
strong, well-made, good-tempered horse, and we 
sometimes had a little chat in the paddock, but of 
course I coidd not be so intimate with him as with 
Ginger, who stood in the same stable. 


40 


CHAPTER VI 


LIBERTY 

I WAS quite happy in my new place, and if 
there was one thing that I missed, it must 
not be thought I was discontented; all who 
had to do with me were good, and I had a light, airy 
stable and the best of food. What more could I 
want ? Why, liberty ! For three years and a half 
of my life I had had all the liberty I could wish 
for; but now, week after week, month after month, 
and no doubt year after year, I must stand up in a 
stable night and day except when I am wanted, and 
then I must be just as steady and quiet as any old 
horse who has worked twenty years. Straps here 
and straps there, a bit in my mouth, and blinkers 
over my eyes. Now, I am not complaining, for I 
know it must be so. I only mean to say that for a 
young horse full of strength and spirits who has 
been used to some large field or plain, where he can 
41 


BLACK BEAUTY 


fling up his head and toss up his tail and gallop 
away at full speed, then round and back again with 
a snort to his companions — I say it is hard never to 
have a bit more liberty to do as you like. Some- 
times, when I have had less exercise than usual, I 
have felt so full of life and spring that when John 
has taken me out to exercise I really could not 
keep quiet ; do what I would, it seemed as if I must 
jump, or dance, or prance, and many a good shake 
I know I must have given him, ’specially at the 
first ; but he was always good and patient. 

“Steady, steady, my boy,” he would say; “wait a 
bit, and we’ll have a good swing, and soon get the 
tickle out of your feet.” Then as soon as we were 
out of the village, he would give me a few miles at 
a spanking trot, and then bring me back as fresh 
as before, only clear of the fidgets, as he called 
them. Spirited horses, when not enough exercised, 
are often called skittish, when it is only play; and 
some grooms will punish them, but our John did 
not, he knew it was only high spirits. Still, he had 
his own ways of making me understand by the tone 
42 



“ It was a great treat to be turned out into the orchard.” 






. 


’ 


























































































































































































































































































BLACK BEAUTY 


of his voice or the touch of the rein. If he was very 
serious and quite determined, I always knew it by 
his voice, and that had more power with me than 
anything else, for I was very fond of him. 

I ought to say that sometimes we had our liberty 
for a few hours ; this used to be on fine Sundays in 
the summer-time. The carriage never went out on 
Sundays, because the church was not far off. 

It was a great treat to us to be turned out into 
the home paddock or the old orchard. The grass 
was so cool and soft to our feet; the air so sweet, 
and the freedom to do as we liked was so pleasant; 
to gallop, to lie down, and roll over on our backs, 
or to nibble the sweet grass. Then it was a very 
good time for talking, as we stood together under 
the shade of the large chestnut tree. 


43 


CHAPTER VII 


GINGER 

O NE day when Ginger and I were standing 
alone in the shade we had a great deal of 
talk; she wanted to know all about my 
bringing up and breaking in, and I told her. 

“Well,” said she, “if I had had your bringing up 
I might have had as good a temper as you, but 
now I don’t believe I ever shall.” 

“Why not?” I said. 

“Because it has been all so different with me,” 
she replied; “I never had any one, horse or man, 
that was kind to me, or that I cared to please, for in 
the first place I was taken from my mother as soon 
as I was weaned, and put with a lot of other young 
colts; none of them cared for me, and I cared for 
none of them. There was no kind master like yours 
to look after me, and talk to me, and bring me nice 
things to eat. The man that had the care of us 
44 


BLACK BEAUTY 


never gave me a kind word in my life. I do not 
mean that he ill-used me, but he did not care for us 
one bit further than to see that we had plenty to 
eat and shelter in the winter. A footpath ran 
through our field, and very often the great boys 
passing through would fling stones to make us gal- 
lop. I was never hit, but one fine young colt was 
badly cut in the face, and I should think it would be 
a scar for life. We did not care for them, but of 
course it made us more wild, and we settled it in our 
minds that boys were our enemies. We had very 
good fun in the free meadows, galloping up and 
down and chasing each other round and round the 
field; then standing still under the shade of the 
trees. But when it came to breaking in, that was a 
bad time for me ; several men came to catch me, and 
when at last they closed me in at one corner of the 
field, one caught me by the forelock, another caught 
me by the nose, and held it so tight I could hardly 
draw my breath; then another took my under jaw 
in his hard hand and wrenched my mouth open, and 
so by force they got on the halter and the bar into 
45 


BLACK BEAUTY 


my mouth ; then one dragged me along by the hal- 
ter, another flogging behind, and this was the first 
experience I had of men’s kindness; it was all force. 
They did not give me a chance to know what they 
wanted. I was high bred and had a great deal of 
spirit, and was very wild, no doubt, and gave them, 
I daresay, plenty of trouble, but then it was dread- 
ful to be shut up in a stall day after day instead of 
having my liberty, and I fretted and pined and 
wanted to get loose. You know yourself, it’s bad 
enough when you have a kind master and plenty of 
coaxing, but there was nothing of that sort for me. 

“There was one — the old master, Mr. Ryder, 
who I think could soon have brought me round, and 
could have done anything with me, but he had given 
up all the hard part of the trade to his son and to 
another experienced man, and he only came at 
times to oversee. His son was a strong, tall, bold 
man; they called him Samson, and he used to boast 
that he had never found a horse that could throw 
him. There was no gentleness in him as there was 
in his father, but only hardness, a hard voice, a 
46 


BLACK BEAUTY 


hard eye, a hard hand, and I felt from the first that 
what he wanted was to wear all the spirit out of 
me, and just make me into a quiet, humble, obedi- 
ent piece of horse-flesh. ‘Horse-flesh!’ Yes, that 
is all that he thought about,” and Ginger stamped 
her foot as if the very thought of him made her 
angry. And she went on: “If I did not do ex- 
actly what he wanted, he would get put out, and 
make me run round with that long rein in the train- 
ing field till he had me tired out. I think he drank 
a good deal, and I am quite sure that the oftener 
he drank the worse it was for me. One day he had 
worked me hard in every way he could, and when I 
laid down I was tired and miserable, and angry ; it 
all seemed so hard. The next morning he came for 
me early, and ran me round again for a long time. 
I had scarcely had an hour’s rest, when he came 
again for me with a saddle and bridle and a new 
kind of bit. I could never quite tell how it came 
about; he had only just mounted me on the training 
ground, when something I did put him out of tem- 
per, and he chucked me hard with the rein. The 
47 


BLACK BEAUTY 


new bit was very painful, and I reared up sud- 
denly, which angered him still more, and he began 
to flog me. I felt my whole spirit set against 
him, and I teg an to kick, and plunge, and rear as 
I had never done before, and we had a regular 
fight; for a long time he stuck to the saddle and 
punished me cruelly with his whip and spurs, but 
my blood was thoroughly up, and I cared for noth- 
ing he could do if only I could get him off. At last, 
after a terrible struggle, I threw him off backwards. 
I heard him fall heavily on the turf, and without 
looking behind me, I galloped off to the other end 
of the field ; there I turned round and saw my per- 
secutor slowly rising from the ground and going 
into the stable. I stood under an oak tree and 
watched, but no one came to catch me. The time 
went on, the sun was very hot, the flies swarmed 
round me, and settled on my bleeding flanks where 
the spurs had dug in. I felt hungry, for I had not 
eaten since the early morning, but there was not 
enough grass in that meadow for a goose to live on. 
I wanted to lie down and rest, but with the saddle 
48 


BLACK BEAUTY 


strapped tightly on, there was no comfort, and 
there was not a drop of water to drink. The after- 
noon wore on, and the sun got low. I saw the other 
colts led in, and I knew they were having a good 
feed. 

“At last, just as the sun went down, I saw the 
old master come out with a sieve in his hand. He 
was a very fine old gentleman with quite white hair, 
but his voice was what I should know him by 
among a thousand. It was not high, nor yet low, 
but full, and clear, and kind, and when he gave 
orders' it was so steady and decided that every one 
knew, both horses and men, that he expected to be 
obeyed. He came quietly along, now and then 
shaking the oats about that he had in the sieve, and 
speaking cheerfully and gently to me, 'Come along, 
lassie, come along, lassie; come along, come along.’ 
I stood still and let him come up ; he held the oats 
to me and I began to eat without fear; his voice 
took all my fear away. He stood by, patting and 
stroking me while I was eating, and seeing the clots 
of blood on my side he seemed very vexed; 'Poor 
49 


BLACK BEAUTY 


lassie! it was a bad business, a bad business!’ then 
he quietly took the rein and led me to the stable; 
just at the door stood Samson. I laid my ears 
back and snapped at him. ‘Stand back,’ said the 
master, ‘and keep out of her way; you’ve done a 
bad day’s work for this filly.’ He growled out 
something about a vicious brute. ‘Hark ye,’ said 
the father, ‘a bad-tempered man will never make a 
good-tempered horse. You’ve not learned your 
trade yet, Samson.’ Then he led me into my box, 
took off the saddle and bridle with his own hands 
and tied me up ; then he called for a pail of warm 
water and a sponge, took off his coat, and while the 
stable man held the pail, he sponged my sides a 
good while so tenderly that I was sure he knew how 
sore and bruised they were. ‘Whoa! my pretty 
one,’ he said, ‘stand still, stand still.’ His very voice 
did me good, and the bathing was very comfortable. 
The skin was so broken at the corners of my mouth 
that I could not eat the hay, the stalks hurt me. He 
looked closely at it, shook his head, and told the 
man to fetch a good bran mash and put some meal 
50 


BLACK BEAUTY 


into it. How good that mash was ! and so soft and 
healing to my mouth. He stood by all the time I 
was eating, stroking me and talking to the man. 
‘If a high-mettled creature like this,’ said he, ‘can’t 
be broken in by fair means, she will never be good 
for anything.’ 

“After that he often came to see me, and when 
my mouth was healed, the other breaker, Job, they 
called him, went on training me ; he was steady and 
thoughtful, and I soon learned what he wanted.” 


51 


CHAPTER VIII 


GINGER^S STORY CONTINUED 

T HE next time that Ginger and I were to- 
gether in the paddock, she told me about 
her first place. 

“ After my breaking in,” she said, “I was bought 
by a dealer to match another chestnut horse. For 
some weeks he drove us together, and then we were 
sold to a fashionable gentleman, and were sent up 
to London. I had been driven with a bearing rein 
by the dealer, and I hated it worse than anything 
else; but in this place we were reined far tighter; 
the coachman and his master thinking we looked 
more stylish so. We were often driven about in the 
park and other fashionable places. You who never 
had a bearing rein on don’t know what it is, but I 
can tell you it is dreadful. 

“I like to toss my head about, and hold it as high 
as any horse; but fancy, now, yourself, if you tossed 
52 


BLACK BEAUTY 


your head up high and were obliged to hold it there, 
and that for hours together, not able to move it at 
all, except with a jerk still higher, your neck ach- 
ing till you did not know how to bear it. Besides 
that, to have two bits instead of one ; and mine was 
a sharp one, it hurt my tongue and my jaw, and 
the blood from my tongue colored the froth that 
kept flying from my lips, as I chafed and fretted at 
the bits and rein ; it was worst when we had to stand 
by the hour waiting for our mistress at some grand 
party or entertainment ; and if I fretted or stamped 
with impatience the whip was laid on. It was 
enough to drive one mad.” 

“Did not your master take any thought for you?” 
I said. 

“No,” she said, “he only cared to have a stylish 
turn-out, as they call it ; I think he knew very little 
about horses, he left that to his coachman, who told 
him I was an irritable temper ; that I had not been 
well broken to the bearing rein, but I should soon 
get used to it ; but he was not the man to do it, for 
when I was in the stable, miserable and angry, in- 
53 


BLACK BEAUTY 


stead of being soothed and quieted by kindness, I 
got only a surly word or a blow. If he had been 
civil, I would have tried to bear it. I was willing 
to work, and ready to work hard, too ; but to be tor- 
mented for nothing but their fancies angered me. 
What right had they to make me suffer like that? 
Besides the soreness in my mouth and the pain in 
my neck, it always made my windpipe feel had, and 
if I had stopped there long, I know it would have 
spoiled my breathing; but I grew more and more 
restless and irritable, I could not help it; and I 
began to snap and kick when any one came to har- 
ness me; for this the groom beat me, and one day, 
as they had just buckled us into the carriage, and 
were straining my head up with that rein, I began 
to plunge and kick with all my might. I soon broke 
a lot of harness, and kicked myself clear; so that 
was an end of that place. 

“After this, I was sent to Tattersall’s to be sold; 
of course I could not be warranted free from vice, 
so nothing was said about that. My handsome 
appearance and good paces soon brought a gentle- 
54 


BLACK BEAUTY 


man to bid for me, and I was bought by another 
dealer; he tried me in all kinds of ways and with 
different bits, and soon found out what I could 
bear. At last he drove me quite without a bearing 
rein, and then sold me as a perfectly quiet horse 
to a gentleman in the country ; he was a good mas- 
ter, and I was getting along very well, but his old 
groom left him and a new one came. This man was 
as hard-tempered and hard-handed as Samson; he 
always spoke in a rough, impatient voice, and if I 
did not move in the stall the moment he wanted me, 
he would hit me above the hocks with his stable 
broom or the fork, whichever he might have in his 
hand. Everything he did was rough, and I began 
to hate him ; he wanted to make me afraid of him, 
but I was too high-mettled for that; and one day 
when he had aggravated me more than usual, I bit 
him, which of course put him in a great rage, and 
he began to hit me about the head with a riding 
whip. After that, he never dared to come into my 
stall again, either my heels or my teeth were ready 
for him, and he knew it. I was quite quiet with 


55 


BLACK BEAUTY 


my master, but of course he listened to what the 
man said, and so I was sold again. 

“The same dealer heard of me, and said he 
thought he knew one place where I should do well. 
‘ ’Twas a pity,’ he said, ‘that such a fine horse 
should go to the bad, for want of a real good 
chance,’ and the end of it was that I came here not 
long before you did; but I had then made up my 
mind that men were my natural enemies, and that 
I must defend myself. Of course it is very differ- 
ent here, but who knows how long it will last? I 
wish I could think about things as you do; but I 
can’t after all I have gone through.” 

“Well,” I said, “I think it would be a real 
shame if you were to bite or kick John or James.” 

“I don’t mean to,” she said, “while they are good 
to me. I did bite James once pretty sharp, but 
John said, ‘Try her with kindness,’ and instead of 
punishing me as I expected, James came to me with 
his arm bound up, and brought me a bran mash and 
stroked me; and I have never snapped at him since, 
and I won’t, either.” 


56 


BLACK BEAUTY 


I was sorry for Ginger, but of course I knew 
very little then, and I thought most likely she made 
the worst of it; however, I found that as the weeks 
went on, she grew much more gentle and cheerful, 
and had lost the watchful, defiant look that she 
used to turn on any strange person who came near 
her; and one day James said, “I do believe that 
mare is getting fond of me, she quite whinnied after 
me this morning when I had been rubbing her fore- 
head/’ 

“Ay, ay, Jim, ’tis the Birtwick balls,” said 
John, “she’ll be as good as Black Beauty by and 
by; kindness is all the physic she wants, poor 
thing!” Master noticed the change too, and one 
day when he got out of the carriage and came to 
speak to us as he often did, he stroked her beauti- 
ful neck, “Well, my pretty one, well, how do things 
go with you now? you are a good bit happier than 
when you came to us, I think.” 

She put her nose up to him in a friendly, trustful 
way, while he rubbed it gently. 

“We shall make a cure of her, John,” he said. 

57 


BLACK BEAUTY 


“Yes, sir, she’s wonderfully improved, she’s not 
the same creature that she was; it’s the Birtwick 
balls, sir,” said John, laughing. 

This was a little joke of John’s; he used to say 
that a regular course of the Birtwick horse-balls 
would cure almost any vicious horse; these balls, 
he said, were made up of patience and gentleness, 
firmness and petting, one pound of each to be 
mixed up with half a pint of common sense, and 
given to the horse every day. 


58 


CHAPTER IX 


MERRYLEGS 

M R. BLOMEFIELD, the Vicar, had a 
large family of boys and girls; some- 
times they used to come and play with 
Miss Jessie and Flora. One of the girls was as 
old as Miss Jessie; two of the boys were older, and 
there were several little ones. When they came, 
there was plenty of work for Merrylegs, for noth- 
ing pleased them so much as getting on him by 
turns and riding him all about the orchard and the 
home paddock, and this they would do by the hour 
together. 

One afternoon he had been out with them a long 
time, and when James brought him in and put on 
his halter, he said: 

“There, you rogue, mind how you behave your- 
self, or we shall get into trouble.” 

59 


BLACK BEAUTY 


“What have you been doing, Merrylegs?” I 
asked. 

“Oh!” said he, tossing his little head, “I have 
only been giving those young people a lesson. They 
did not know when they had had enough, nor when 
I had had enough, so I just pitched them off back- 
wards, that was the only thing they could under- 
stand.” 

“What?” said I, “you threw the children off? I 
thought you did know better than that! Did you 
throw Miss Jessie or Miss Flora?” 

He looked very much offended, and said : 

“Of course not, I would not do such a thing for 
the best oats that ever came into the stable ; why, I 
am as careful of our young ladies as the master 
could be, and as for the little ones, it is I who teach 
them to ride. When they seem frightened or a 
little unsteady on my back, I go as smooth and as 
quiet as old pussy when she is after a bird; and 
when they are all right, I go on again faster, you 
see, just to use them to it; so don’t you trouble 
yourself preaching to me; I am the best friend, and 
60 


BLACK BEAUTY 


the best riding master those children have. It is 
not them, it is the boys ; boys,” said he, shaking his 
mane, “are quite different; they must be broken 
in, as we were broken in when we were colts, and 
just be taught what’s what. The other children 
had ridden me about for nearly two hours, and then 
the boys thought it was their turn, and so it was, 
and I was quite agreeable. They rode me by turns, 
and I galloped them about up and down the fields 
and all about the orchard for a good hour. They 
had each cut a great hazel stick for a riding whip, 
and laid it on a little too hard; but I took it in 
good part, till at last I thought we had had enough, 
so I stopped two or three times by way of a hint. 
Boys, you see, think a horse or pony is like a steam 
engine or a thrashing machine, and can go on as 
long and as fast as they please; they never think 
that a pony can get tired, or have any feelings; so 
as the one who was whipping me could not under- 
stand, I just rose up on my hind legs and let him 
slip off behind — that was all ; he mounted me again, 
and I did the same. Then the other boy got up, 


61 


BLACK BEAUTY 


and as soon as he began to use his stick I laid him on 
the grass, and so on, till they were able to under- 
stand that was all. They are not bad boys; they 
don’t wish to be cruel. I like them very well; but 
you see I had to give them a lesson. When they 
brought me to James and told him, I think he was 
very angry to see such big sticks. He said they 
were only fit for drovers or gypsies, and not for 
young gentlemen.” 

“If I had been you,” said Ginger, “I would have 
given those boys a good kick, and that would have 
given them a lesson.” 

“No doubt you would,” said Merrylegs, “but 
then I am not quite such a fool (begging your par- 
don) as to anger our master or make James 
ashamed of me; besides, those children are under 
my charge when they are riding; I tell you they are 
entrusted to me. Why, only the other day I heard 
our master say to Mrs. Blomefield, ‘My dear 
madam, you need not be anxious about the children, 
my old Merrylegs will take as much care of them 
as you or I could ; I assure you I would not sell that 
62 


BLACK BEAUTY 


pony for any money, he is so perfectly good-tem- 
pered and trustworthy;’ and do you think I am 
such an ungrateful brute as to forget all the kind 
treatment I have had here for five years, and all 
the trust they place in me, and turn vicious because 
a couple of ignorant boys used me badly? No! no! 
you never had a good place where they were kind 
to you; and so you don’t know, and I’m sorry for 
you, but I can tell you good places make good 
horses. I wouldn’t vex our people for anything; 
I love them, I do,” said Merrylegs, and he gave a 
low “ho, ho, ho,” through his nose, as he used to 
do in the morning when he heard James’ footstep 
at the door. 

“Besides,” he went on, “if I took to kicking, 
where should I be? Why, sold off in a jiffy, and no 
character, and I might find myself slaved about 
under a butcher’s boy, or worked to death at some 
seaside place where no one cared for me, except to 
find out how fast I could go, or be flogged along in 
some cart with three or four great men in it going 
out for a Sunday spree, as I have often seen in the 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


place I lived in before I came here; no,” said he, 
shaking his head, “I hope I shall never come to 
that.” 


64 



“ Our greatest pleasure was when we were saddled for a riding party . ” 















































































































































CHAPTER X 


A TALK IN THE ORCHARD 

G INGER and I were not of the regular tall 
carriage horse breed, we had more of the 
racing blood in us. We stood about fif- 
teen and a half hands high; we were therefore just 
as good for riding as we were for driving, and our 
master used to say that he disliked either horse or 
man that could do but one thing ; and as he did not 
want to show off in London parks he preferred a 
more active and useful kind of horse. As for us, 
our greatest pleasure was when we were saddled 
for a riding party, the master on Ginger, the mis- 
tress on me, and the young ladies on Sir Oliver and 
Merrylegs. It was so cheerful to be trotting and 
cantering all together that it always put us ip high 
spirits. I had the best of it, for I always carried 
the mistress; her weight was little, her voice was 
65 


BLACK BEAUTY 


sweet, and her hand was so light on the rein that I 
was guided almost without feeling it. 

Oh! if people knew what a comfort to horses a 
light hand is, and how it keeps a good mouth and a 
good temper, they surely would not chuck, and 
drag, and pull at the rein as they often do. Our 
mouths are so tender that where they have not been 
spoiled or hardened with bad or ignorant treatment 
they feel the slightest movement of the driver’s 
hand, and we know in an instant what is required 
of us. My mouth had never been spoiled, and I be- 
lieve that was why the mistress preferred me to 
Ginger, although her paces were certainly quite as 
good. She used often to envy me, and said it was 
all the fault of breaking in, and the gag bit in Lon- 
don, that her mouth was not so perfect as mine; and 
then old Sir Oliver would say, “There, there! don’t 
vex yourself; you have the greatest honor; a mare 
that can carry a tall man of our master’s weight, 
with all your spring and sprightly action, does not 
need to hold her head down because she does not 
carry the lady; we horses must take things as they 
66 


BLACK BEAUTY 

come, and always be contented and willing so long 
as we are kindly used.” 

I had often wondered how it was that Sir Oliver 
had such a very short tail ; it really was only six or 
seven inches long, with a tassel of hair hanging 
from it ; and on one of our holidays in the orchard 
I ventured to ask him by what accident it was that 
he had lost his tail. “Accident,” he snorted, with a 
fierce look, “it was no accident! it was a cruel, 
shameful, cold-blooded act! When I was young I 
was taken to a place where these cruel things were 
done. I was tied up and made fast so that I could 
not stir, and then they came and cut off my long, 
beautiful tail, through the flesh, and through the 
bone, and took it away.” 

“How dreadful!” I exclaimed. 

“Dreadful! ah! it was dreadful; but it was not 
only the pain, though that was terrible and lasted 
a long time ; it was not only the indignity of having 
my best ornament taken from me, though that was 
bad ; but it was this, how could I ever brush the flies 
off my sides and my hind legs any more? You who 
67 


BLACK BEAUTY 


have tails just whisk the flies off without thinking 
about it, and you can’t tell what a torment it is to 
have them settle upon you and sting and sting, and 
have nothing in the world to lash them off with. I 
tell you, it is a lifelong wrong, and a lifelong loss; 
but thank Heaven! they don’t do it now.” 

“What did they do it for then?” said Ginger. 

“For fashion!” said the old horse with a stamp of 
his foot; “for fashion! if you know what that means. 
There was not a well-bred young horse in my time 
that had not his tail docked in that shameful way, 
just as if the good God that made us did not know 
what we wanted and what looked best.” 

“I suppose it is fashion that makes them strap 
our heads up with those horrid bits that I was tor- 
tured with in London,” said Ginger. 

“Of course, it is,” said he; “to my mind, fashion 
is one of the wickedest things in the world. Now 
look, for instance, at the way they serve dogs, cut- 
ting off their tails to make them look plucky, and 
shearing up their pretty little ears to a point to 
make them look sharp, forsooth! I had a dear 
68 


BLACK BEAUTY 


friend once, a brown terrier — ‘Skye/ they called 
her; she was so fond of me that she never would 
sleep out of my stall; she made her bed under the 
manger, and there she had a litter of five as pretty 
little puppies as need be; none were drowned, for 
they were a valuable kind, and how pleased she 
was with them! and when they got their eyes open 
and crawled about, it was a real pretty sight. But 
one day the man came and took them all away. I 
thought he might be afraid I should tread upon 
them. But it was not so ; in the evening poor Skye 
brought them back again, one by one, in her mouth ; 
not the happy little things that they were, but 
bleeding and crying pitifully; they had all had a 
piece of their tails cut off, and the soft flap of their 
pretty little ears was cut quite off. How their 
mother licked them, and how troubled she was, poor 
thing! I never forgot it. They healed in time, and 
they forgot the pain, but the nice, soft flap that, of 
course, was intended to protect the delicate part of 
their ears from dust and injury was gone forever. 
Why don’t they cut their own children’s ears into 
69 


BLACK BEAUTY 


points to make them look sharp ? Why don’t they 
cut the end off their noses to make them look 
plucky? One would be just as sensible as the other. 
What right have they to torment and disfigure 
God’s creatures?” 

Sir Oliver, though he was so gentle, was a fiery 
old fellow, and what he said was all so new to me 
and so dreadful that I found a bitter feeling toward 
men rise up in my mind that I had never had be- 
fore. Of course, Ginger was much excited; she 
flung up her head with flashing eyes and distended 
nostrils, declaring that men were both brutes and 
blockheads. 

“Who talks about blockheads?” said Merrylegs, 
who just came up from the old apple tree, where 
he had been rubbing himself against the low 
branch; “Who talks about blockheads? I believe 
that is a bad word.” 

“Bad words were made for bad things,” said 
Ginger, and she told him what Sir Oliver had said. 
“It is all true,” said Merrylegs sadly, “and I’ve 
seen that about the dogs over and over again where 
70 


BLACK BEAUTY 


I lived first; but we won’t talk about it here. You 
know that master, and John, and James are always 
good to us, and talking against men in such a place 
as this doesn’t seem fair or grateful, and you know 
there are good masters arid good grooms besides 
ours, though, of course, ours are the best.” This 
wise speech of good little Merrylegs, which we 
knew was quite true, cooled us all down, ’specially 
Sir Oliver, who was dearly fond of his master; and 
to turn the subject I said, “Can any one tell me the 
use of blinkers?” 

“No!” said Sir Oliver shortly, “because they are 
no use.” 

“They are supposed,” said Justice in his calm 
way “to prevent horses from shying and starting, 
and getting so frightened as to cause accidents.” 

“Then what is the reason they do not put them 
on riding horses; especially on ladies’ horses?” 
said I. 

“There is no reason at all,” said he quietly, “ex- 
cept the fashion; they say that a horse would be so 
frightened to see the wheels of his own cart or 

71 


BLACK BEAUTY 


carriage coming behind him that he would be sure 
to run away, although, of course, when he is ridden 
he sees them all about him if the streets are 
crowded. I admit they do sometimes come too close 
to be pleasant, but we don’t run away; we are used 
to it, and understand it, and if we had never blink- 
ers put on, we should never want them; we should 
see what was there:, and know what was what, and 
be much less frightened than by only seeing bits 
of things that we can’t understand.” 

Of course, there may be some nervous horses who 
have been hurt or frightened when they were 
young, and may be the better for them, but as I 
never was nervous I can’t judge. 

“I consider,” said Sir Oliver, “that blinkers are 
dangerous things in the night; we horses can see 
much better in the dark than man can, and many an 
accident would never have happened if horses 
might have had the full use of their eyes. Some 
years ago, I remember, there was a hearse with two 
horses returning one dark night, and just by 
Farmer Sparrow’s house, where the pond is close 
72 


BLACK BEAUTY 


to the road, the wheels went too near the edge, and 
the hearse was overturned into the water; both the 
horses were drowned, and the driver hardly 
escaped. Of course, after this accident a stout 
white rail was put up that might be easily seen, but 
if those horses had not been partly blinded they 
would of themselves have kept farther from the 
edge, and no accident would have happened. When 
our master’s carriage was overturned, before you 
came here, it was said that if the lamp on the left 
side had not gone out John would have seen the 
great hole that the road makers had left ; and so he 
might, but if old Colin had not had blinkers on he 
would have seen it, lamp or no lamp, for he was 
far too knowing an old horse to run into danger. 
As it was, he was very much hurt, the carriage was 
broken, and how John escaped nobody knew.” 

“I should say,” said Ginger, curling her nostril, 
“that these men, who are so wise, had better give 
orders that in future all foals should be born with 
their eyes set just in the middle of their foreheads, 
instead of on the side ; they always think they can 
73 


BLACK BEAUTY 


improve upon Nature and mend what God has 
made.’* 

Things were getting rather sore again when 
Merrylegs held up his knowing little face and said, 
“I’ll tell you a secret; I believe John does not ap- 
prove of blinkers ; I heard him talking with master 
about it one day. The master said that ‘if horses 
had been used to them it might be dangerous in 
some cases to leave them off,’ and John said he 
thought it would be a good thing if all colts were 
broken in without blinkers, as was the case in 
some foreign countries; so let us cheer up, and have 
a run to the other end of the orchard ; I believe the 
wind has blown down some apples, and we might 
just as well eat them as the slugs.” 

Merrylegs could not be resisted, so we broke off 
our long conversation, and got up our spirits by 
munching some very sweet apples which lay scat- 
tered on the grass. 


74 


CHAPTER XI 


PLAIN SPEAKING 

T HE longer I lived at Birtwick, the more 
proud and happy I felt at having such a 
place. Our master and mistress were re- 
spected and beloved by all who knew them; they 
were good and kind to everybody and everything; 
not only men and women, but horses and donkeys, 
dogs and cats, cattle and birds; there was no op- 
pressed or ill-used creature that had not a friend in 
them, and their servants took the same tone. If 
any of the village children were known to treat any 
creature cruelly, they soon heard about it from 
the Hall. 

The Squire and Farmer Grey had worked to- 
gether, as they said, for more than twenty years to 
get bearing reins on the cart horses done away with, 
and in our parts you seldom saw them; but some- 
times if mistress met a heavily laden horse, with 
75 


BLA.CK BEAUTY 


his head strained up, she would stop the carriage 
and get out, and reason with the driver in her sweet 
serious voice, and try to show him how foolish and 
cruel it was. 

I don’t think any man could withstand our 
mistress. I wish all ladies were like her. Our 
master, too, used to come down very heavy some- 
times. I remember he was riding me towards home 
one morning when we saw a powerful man driving 
towards us in a light pony chaise, with a beautiful 
little bay pony, with slender legs and a high-bred, 
sensitive head and face. Just as he came to the 
Park gates the little thing turned towards them; 
the man, without word or warning, wrenched the 
creature’s head round with such a force and sud- 
denness that he nearly threw it on its haunches; 
recovering itself, it was going on when he began 
to lash it furiously ; the pony plunged forward, but 
the strong, heavy hand held the pretty creature 
back with force almost enough to break its jaw, 
while the whip still cut into him. It was a dreadful 
sight to me, for I knew what fearful pain it gave 
76 


BLACK BEAUTY 


that delicate little mouth ; but master gave me the 
word, and we were up with him in a second. 

“Sawyer,” he cried in a stern voice, “is that pony 
made of flesh and blood?” 

'‘Flesh and blood and temper,” he said; “he’s too 
fond of his own will, and that won’t suit me.” He 
spoke as if he was in a strong passion; he was a 
builder who had often been to the Park on business. 
“And do you think,” said master sternly, “that 
treatment like this will make him fond of your 
will?” 

“He had no business to make that turn; his road 
was straight on!” said the man roughly. 

“You have often driven that pony up to my 
place,” said the master; “it only shows the crea- 
ture’s memory and intelligence; how did he know 
that you were not going there again? but that has 
little to do with it. I must say, Mr. Sawyer, that 
more unmanly, brutal treatment of a little pony it 
was never my painful lot to witness ; and by giving 
way to such passion you injure your own character 
as much, nay, more, than you injure your horse, 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


and remember, we shall all have to be judged ac- 
cording to our works, whether they be towards man 
or towards beast.” 

Master rode me home slowly, and I could tell by 
his voice how the thing had grieved him. He was 
just as free to speak to gentlemen of his own rank 
as to those below him; for another day, when we 
were out, we met a Captain Langley, a friend of 
our master’s; he was driving a splendid pair of 
grays in a kind of break. After a little conversa- 
tion the Captain said : 

“What do you think of my new team, Mir. 
Douglas? You know, you are the judge of horses 
in these parts, and I should like your opinion.” 

The master backed me a little, so as to get a 
good view of them. “They are an uncommonly 
handsome pair,” he said, “and if they are as good 
as they look I am sure you need not wish for 
anything better; but I see you still hold that pet 
scheme of yours for worrying your horses and less- 
ening their power.” 

“What do you mean,” said the other, “the bear- 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


ing reins ? Oh, ah ! I know that’s a hobby of yours ; 
well, the fact is, I like to see my horses hold their 
heads up.” 

“So do I,” said master, “as well as any man, but 
I don’t like to see them held up; that takes all the 
shine out of it. Now, you are a military man, 
Langley, and no doubt like to see your regiment 
look well on parade, ‘Heads up,’ and all that; but 
you would not take much credit for your drill if all 
your men had their heads tied to a backboard! It 
might not be much harm on parade except to worry 
and fatigue them, but how would it be in a bayonet 
charge against the enemy, when they want the free 
use of every muscle and all their strength thrown 
forward? I would not give much for their chance 
of victory, and it is just the same with horses; you 
fret and worry their tempers and decrease their 
power; you will not let them throw their weight 
against their work, and so they have to do too much 
with their joints and muscles, and, of course, it 
wears them up faster. You may depend upon it, 
horses were intended to have their heads free, as 
79 


BLACK BEAUTY 


free as men’s are; and if we could act a little more 
according to common sense, and a good deal less 
according to fashion, we should find many things 
work easier; besides, you know as well as I that if 
a horse makes a false step he has much less chance 
of recovering himself if his head and neck are 
fastened back. And now,” said the master, laugh- 
ing, “I have given my hobby a good trot out, can’t 
you make up your mind to mount him, too, Cap- 
tain? Your example would go a long way.” 

“I believe you are right in theory,” said the other, 
“and that’s rather a hard hit about the soldiers; 
hut — well — I’ll think about it,” and so they parted. 


80 


CHAPTER XII 

A STORMY DAY 

O NE day late in the autumn, my master had 
a long journey to go on business. I was 
put into the dog-cart, and John went with 
his master. I always liked to go in the dog-cart, it 
was so light and the high wheels ran along so pleas- 
antly. There had been a great deal of rain, and 
now the wind was very high and blew the dry leaves 
across the road in a shower. We went along mer- 
rily till we came to the toll-bar and the low wooden 
bridge. The river banks were rather high, and the 
bridge, instead of rising, went across just level, so 
that in the middle, if the river was full, the water 
would be nearly up to the woodwork and planks; 
but as there were good, substantial rails on each 
side people did not mind.it. 

The man at the gate said the river was rising 
fast, and he feared it would be a bad night. Many 
81 


BLACK BEAUTY 


of the meadows were under water, and in one low 
part of the road the water was half-way up to my 
knees; the bottom was good, and master drove 
gently, so it was no matter. 

When we got to the town, of course, I had a good 
bait, but as the master’s business engaged him a 
long time we did not start for home till rather late 
in the afternoon. The wind was then much higher, 
and I heard the master say to John he had never 
been out in such a storm; and so I thought, as we 
went along the skirts of a wood, where the great 
branches were swaying about like twigs, and the 
rushing sound was terrible. 

“I wish we were well out of this wood,” said my 
master. 

“Yes, sir,” said John, “it would be rather awk- 
ward if one of these branches came down upon us.” 

The words were scarcely out of his mouth when 
there was a groan, and a crack, and a splitting 
sound, and tearing, crashing down among the other 
trees came an oak, torn up by the roots, and it fell 
right across the road just before us. I will never 
82 


BLACK BEAUTY 


say I was not frightened, for I was. I stopped 
still, and I believe I trembled ; of course, I did not 
turn round or run away; I was not brought up to 
that. John jumped out and was in a moment at 
my head. 

“That was a very near touch,” said my master. 
“What’s to be done now?” 

“Well, sir, we can’t drive over that tree nor yet 
get round it; there will be nothing for it but to go 
back to the four crossways, and that will be a 
good six miles before we get round to the wooden 
bridge again; it will make us late, but the horse 
is fresh.” 

So back we went, and round by the crossroads; 
but by the time we got to the bridge it was very 
nearly dark. We could just see that the water was 
over the middle of it; but as that happened some- 
times when the floods were out master did not stop. 
We were going along at a good pace, but the mo- 
ment my feet touched the first part of the bridge 
I felt sure there was something wrong. I dare not 
go forward, and I made a dead stop. “Go on, 
83 


BLACK BEAUTY 


Beauty,” said my master, and he gave me a touch 
with the whip, but I dare not stir; he then gave 
me a sharp cut; I jumped, but I dare not go for- 
ward. 

“There’s something wrong, sir,” said John, and 
he sprang out of the dog-cart and came to my head 
and looked all about. He tried to lead me forward, 
“Come on, Beauty, what’s the matter?” Of course, 
I could not tell him, but I knew very well that the 
bridge was not safe. 

Just then, the man at the toll-gate on the other 
side ran out of the house, tossing a torch about like 
one mad. 

“Hoy, hoy, hoy, halloo, stop!” he cried. 

“What’s the matter?” shouted my master. 

“The bridge is broken in the middle, and part of 
it is carried away ; if you come on you’ll be into the 
river.” 

“Thank God!” said my master. “You Beauty!” 
said John, and took the bridle and gently turned 
me round to the right-hand road by the river side. 
The sun had set some time, the wind seemed to 
84 


BLACK BEAUTY 


have lulled off after that furious blast which tore up 
the tree. It grew darker and darker, stiller and 
stiller. I trotted quietly along, the wheels hardly 
making a sound on the soft road. For a good while 
neither master nor John spoke, and then master 
began in a serious voice. I could not understand 
much of what they said, but I found they thought, 
if I had gone on as the master wanted me, most 
likely the bridge would have given way under us, 
and horse, chaise, master, and man would have 
fallen into the river; and as the current was flowing 
very strongly, and there was no light and no help 
at hand, it was more than likely we should all have 
been drowned. Master said God had given men 
reason by which they could find out things for 
themselves, but He had given animals knowledge 
which did not depend on reason, and which was 
much more prompt and perfect in its way, and by 
which they had often saved the lives of men. J ohn 
had many stories to tell of dogs and horses, and 
the wonderful things they had done; he thought 
people did not value their animals half enough, nor 
85 


BLACK BEAUTY 


make friends of them as they ought to do. I am 
sure he makes friends of them if ever a man did. 

At last we came to the Park gates, and found the 
gardener looking out for us. He said that mistress 
had been in a dreadful way ever since dark, fearing 
some accident had happened, and that she had sent 
James off on Justice, the roan cob, towards the 
wooden bridge to make inquiry after us. 

We saw a light at the hall door and at the upper 
windows, and as we came up mistress ran out, say- 
ing, “Are you really safe, my dear? Oh! I have 
been so anxious, fancying all sorts of things. Have 
you had no accident ?” 

“No, my dear; but if your Black Beauty had 
not been wiser than we were, we should all have 
been carried down the river at the wooden bridge.” 
I heard no more, as they went into the house, and 
John took me to the stable. Oh! what a good sup- 
per he gave me that night, a good bran mash and 
some crushed beans with my oats, and such a thick 
bed of straw, and I was glad of it, for I was tired. 

86 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE DEVIl/s TRADE MARK 

O NE day when John and I had been out on 
some business of our master’s, and were 
returning gently on a long, straight road, 
at some distance we saw a boy trying to leap a pony 
over a gate ; the pony would not take the leap, and 
the boy cut him with the whip, but he only turned 
off on one side. He whipped him again, but the 
pony turned off on the other side. Then the boy 
got off and gave him a hard thrashing, and knocked 
him about the head ; then he got up again and tried 
to make him leap the gate, kicking him all the time 
shamefully, but still the pony refused. When we 
were nearly at the spot, the pony put down his head 
and threw up his heels and sent the boy neatly over 
into a broad, quickset hedge, and with the rein 
dangling from his head he set off home at a full 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


gallop. John laughed out quite loud. “Served 
him right,” he said. 

“Oh! oh! oh,” cried the boy, as he struggled 
about among the thorns; “I say, come and help 
me out.” 

“Thank ye,” said John, “I think you are quite 
in the right place, and maybe a little scratching will 
teach you not to leap a pony over a gate that is 
too high for him,” and so with that John rode off. 
“It may be,” said he to himself, “that young fellow 
is a liar as well as a cruel one; we’ll just go home 
by Farmer Bushby’s, Beauty, and then if anybody 
wants to know you and I can tell ’em, ye see;” so 
we turned off to the right, and soon came up to the 
stack yard, and within sight of the house. The 
farmer was hurrying out into the road, and his wife 
was standing at the gate, looking very frightened. 

“Have you seen my boy?” said Mr. Bushby, as 
we came up. “He went out an hour ago on my 
black pony, and the creature is just come back 
without a rider.” 

“I should think, sir,” said John, “he had better 


88 



At Farmer Bushby’s. 






























































































































\ 




























































































. 





















































































































































































































































































































































































BLACK BEAUTY 


be without a rider, unless he can be ridden prop- 
erly.” 

“What do you mean?” said the farmer. 

“Well, sir, I saw your son whipping, and kick- 
ing, and knocking that good little pony about 
shamefully, because he would not leap a gate that 
was too high for him. The pony behaved well, sir, 
and showed no vice; but at last he just threw up 
his heels and tipped the young gentleman into the 
thorn hedge ; he wanted me to help him out ; but I 
hope you will excuse me, sir, I did not feel inclined 
to do so. There’s no bones broken, sir, he’ll only 
get a few scratches. I love horses, and it riles me 
to see them badly used ; it is a bad plan to aggravate 
an animal till he uses his heels ; the first time is not 
always the last.” 

During this time the mother began to cry, “Oh! 
my poor Bill, I must go and meet him, he must be 
hurt.” 

“You had better go into the house, wife,” said the 
farmer; “Bill wants a lesson about this, and I must 
see that he gets it ; this is not the first time nor the 

91 


BLACK BEAUTY 


second that he has ill-used that pony, and I shall 
stop it. I am much obliged to you, Manly. Good 
evening.” 

So we went on, John chuckling all the way home, 
then he told James about it, who laughed and said, 
“Serve him right. I knew that boy at school; he 
took great airs on himself because he was a farm- 
er’s son; he used to swagger about and bully the 
little boys ; of course, we elder ones would not have 
any of that nonsense, and let him know that in the 
school and the playground farmers’ sons and labor- 
ers’ sons were all alike. I well remember one day, 
just before afternoon school, I found him at the 
large window catching flies and pulling off their 
wings. He did not see me, and I gave him a box 
on the ears that laid him sprawling on the floor. 
Well, angry as I was, I was almost frightened, he 
roared and bellowed in such a style. The boys 
rushed in from the playground, and the master ran 
in from the road to see who was being murdered. 
Of course, I said fair and square at once what I had 
done* and why; then I showed the master the poor 
92 


BLACK BEAUTY 


flies, some crushed and some crawling about help- 
less, and I showed him the wings on the window- 
sill. I never saw him so angry before; but as Bill 
was still howling and whining, like the coward that 
he was, he did not give him any more punishment 
of that kind, but set him up on a stool for the rest 
of the afternoon, and said that he should not go out 
to play for that week. Then he talked to all the 
boys very seriously about cruelty, and said how 
hard-hearted and cowardly it was to hurt the weak 
and helpless ; but what stuck in my mind was this, 
he said that cruelty was the Devil’s own trade mark, 
and if we saw any one who took pleasure in cruelty 
we might know who he belonged to, for the devil 
was a murderer from the beginningand a tormentor 
to the end. On the other hand, where we saw peo- 
ple who loved their neighbors, and were kind to 
man and beast, we might know that was God’s 
mark, for ‘God is Love.’ ” 

t “Your master never taught you a truer thing,” 
said John; “there is no religion without love, and 
people may talk as much as they like about their 
93 


BLACK BEAUTY 


religion, but if it does not teach them to be good 
and kind to man and beast, it is all a sham — all a 
sham, James, and it won’t stand when things come 
to be turned inside out and put down for what they 
are.” 


94 


CHAPTER XIV 


JAMES HOWARD 

O NE morning early in December John had 
just led me into my box after my daily 
exercise, and was strapping my cloth on, 
and James was coming in from the corn chamber 
with some oats, when the master came into the sta- 
ble ; he looked rather serious, and held an open let- 
ter in his hand. John fastened the door of my box, 
touched his cap, and waited for orders. 

“Good morning, John,” said the master; “I want 
to know if you have any complaint to make of 
James?” 

“Complaint, sir? No, sir.” 

“Is he industrious at his work and respectful to 
you?” 

“Yes, sir, always.” 

“You never find he slights his work when your 
back is turned?” 


95 


BLACK BEAUTY 


“Never, sir.” 

“That’s well; but I must put another question: 
Have you any reason to suspect that when he goes 
out with the horses to exercise them, or to take a 
message, he stops about talking to his acquaint- 
ances, or goes into houses where he has no business, 
leaving the horses outside?” 

“No, certainly not, and if anybody has been 
saying that about James, I don’t believe it, and I 
don’t mean to believe it unless I have it fairly 
proved before witnesses ; it’s not for me to say who 
has been trying to take away James’ character, but 
I will say this, sir, that a steadier, pleasanter, hon- 
ester, smarter young fellow I never had in this sta- 
ble. I can trust his word and I can trust his work ; 
he is gentle and clever with the horses, and I would 
rather have them in his charge than in that of half 
the young fellows I know in laced hats and liveries; 
and whoever wants a character of James Howard,” 
said John, with a decided jerk of his head, “let 
them come to John Manly.” 

The master stood all this time grave and at- 
96 


BLACK BEAUTY 


tentive, but as John finished his speech a broad 
smile spread over his face, and looking kindly 
across at James, who all this time had stood still at 
the door, he said, “James, my lad, set down the oats 
and come here; I am very glad to find that John’s 
opinion of your character agrees so exactly with my 
own. John is a cautious man,” he said, with a droll 
smile, “and it is not always easy to get his opinion 
about people, so I thought if I beat the bush on this 
side the birds would fly out, and I should learn 
what I wanted to know quickly; so now we will 
come to business. I have a letter from my brother- 
in-law, Sir Clifford Williams, of Clifford Hall; he 
wants me to find him a trustworthy young groom, 
about twenty or twenty-one, who knows his busi- 
ness. His old coachman, who has lived with him 
twenty years, is getting feeble, and he wants a man 
to work with him and get into his ways, who would 
be able, when the old man was pensioned off, to 
step into his place. He would have eighteen shil- 
lings a week at first, a stable suit, a driving suit, a 
bedroom over the coach-house, and a boy under 
97 


BLACK BEAUTY 


him. Sir Clifford is a good master, and if you 
could get the place it would be a good start for you. 
I don’t want to part with you, and if you left us I 
know John would lose his right hand.” 

“That I should, sir,” said John, “but I would not 
stand in his light for the world.” 

“How old are you, James?” said master. 

“Nineteen next May, sir.” 

“That’s young; what do you think, John?” 

“Well, sir, it is young; but lie is as steady as a 
man, and is strong, and well grown, and though he 
has not had much experience in driving, he has a 
light, firm hand and a quick eye, and he is very 
careful, and I am quite sure no horse of his will be 
ruined for want of having his feet and shoes looked 
after.” 

“Your word will go the furthest, John,” said the 
master, “for Sir Clifford adds in a postscript, ‘If I 
could find a man trained by your John, I should 
like him better than any other;’ so James, lad, think 
it over, talk to your mother at dinner time, and then 
let me know what you wish.” 

98 


BLACK BEAUTY 


In a few days after this conversation it was fully 
settled that James should go to Clifford Hall in a 
month or six weeks, as it suited his master, and in 
the meantime he was to get all the practice in driv- 
ing that could be given to him. I never knew the 
carriage go out so often before; when the mistress 
did not go out the master drove himself in the two- 
wheeled chaise; but now, whether it was master or 
the young ladies, or only an errand, Ginger and I 
were put into the carriage and James drove us. At 
the first John rode with him on the box, telling him 
this and that, and after that James drove alone. 

Then it was wonderful what a number of places 
the master would go to in the city on Saturday, and 
what queer streets we were driven through. He 
was sure to go to the railway station just as the 
train was coming in, and cabs and carriages, carts 
and omnibuses were all trying to get over the 
bridge together; that bridge wanted good horses 
and good drivers when the railway bell was ringing, 
for it was narrow, and there was a very sharp turn 
up to the station, where it would not have been at 
99 


BLACK BEAUTY 


all difficult for people to run into each other if they 
did not look sharp and keep their wits about them. 


100 


\ 


CHAPTER XV 


THE OLD OSTLER 

A FTER this it was decided by my master 
and mistress to pay a visit to some friends 
who lived about forty-six miles from our 
home, and J ames was to drive them. The first day 
we traveled thirty-two miles ; there were some long, 
heavy hills, but James drove so carefully and 
thoughtfully that we were not at all harassed. He 
hever forgot to put on the drag as we went down- 
hill, nor to take it off at the right place. He kept 
our feet on the smoothest part of the road, and if 
the uphill was very long he set the carriage wheels 
a little across the road, so as not to run back, and 
gave us a breathing. All these little things help a 
horse very much, particularly if he gets kind words 
into the bargain. 

We stopped once or twice on the road, and just 
as the sun was going down we reached the town 

101 


BLACK BEAUTY 


where we were to spend the night. We stopped at 
the principal hotel, which was in the Market Place ; 
it was a very large one; we drove under an arch- 
way into a long yard, at the farther end of which 
were the stables and coach-houses. Two ostlers 
came to take us out. The head ostler was a pleas- 
ant, active little man, with a crooked leg and a 
yellow striped waistcoat. I never saw a man un- 
buckle harness so quickly as he did, and with a pat 
and a good word he led me to a long stable, with 
six or eight stalls in it and two or three horses. The 
other man brought Ginger; James stood by while 
we were rubbed down and cleaned. 

I never was cleaned so lightly and quickly as by 
that little old man. When he had done, James 
stepped up and felt me over, as if he thought I 
could not be thoroughly done, but he found my coat 
as clean and smooth as silk. 

“Well,” he said, “I thought I was pretty quick, 
and our John quicker still, but you do beat all I 
ever saw for being quick and thorough at the same 
time.” 


102 



We stopped at the principal hotel. 

































































































































* 










BLACK BEAUTY 


“Practice makes perfect,” said the crooked little 
ostler, “and ’twould be a pity if it didn’t; forty 
years’ practice and not perfect! ha, ha! that would 
be a pity; and as to being quick, why, bless you! 
that is only a matter of habit; if you get into the 
habit of being quick, it is just as easy as being slow; 
easier, I should say; in fact, it don’t agree with my 
health to be hulking about over a job twice as long 
as it need take. Bless you! I couldn’t whistle if 
I crawled over my work as some folks do! You 
see, I have been about horses ever since I was 
twelve years old, in hunting stables and racing sta- 
bles; and being small, ye see, I was jockey for sev- 
eral years; but at the Goodwood, ye see, the turf 
was very slippery and my poor Larkspur got a fall, 
and I broke my knee, and so, of course, I was of no 
more use there ; but I could not live without horses, 
of course I couldn’t, so I took to the hotels, and I 
can tell ye it is a downright pleasure to handle an 
animal like this, well bred, well mannered, well 
cared for; bless ye! I can tell how a horse is treated. 
Give me the handling of a horse for twenty min- 
105 


BLACK BEAUTY 


utes, and I’ll tell you what sort of a groom he has 
had; look at this one, pleasant, quiet, turns about 
just as you want him, holds up his feet to be cleaned 
out, or anything else you please to wish ; then you’ll 
find another, fidgety, fretty, won’t move the right 
way, or starts across the stall, tosses up his head as 
soon as you come near him, lays his ears, and seems 
afraid of you; or else squares about at you with his 
heels. Poor things ! I know what sort of treatment 
they have had. If they are timid, it makes them 
start or shy; if they are high mettled, it makes 
them vicious or dangerous ; their tempers are 
mostly made when they are young. Bless you! 
they are like children, train ’em in the way they 
should go, as the good book says, and when they are 
old they will not depart from it, if they have a 
chance, that is.” 

“I like to hear you talk,” said James. “That’s 
the way we lay it down at home, at our master’s.” 

“Who is your master, young man? if it be a 
proper question. I should judge he is a good one, 
from what I see.” 


106 


BLACK BEAUTY 


“He is Squire Gordon, of Birtwick Park, the 
other side the Beacon hills,” said Janies. 

“Ah! so, so, I have heard tell of him; fine judge 
of horses, ain’t he? the best rider in the county?” 

“I believe he is,” said James, “but he rides very 
little now, since the poor young master was killed.” 

“Ah! poor gentleman; I read all about it in the 
paper; a fine horse killed, too, wasn’t there?” 

“Yes,” said James, “he was a splendid creature, 
brother to this one, and just like him.” 

“Pity! pity!” said the old man. “ ’Twas a bad 
place to leap, if I remember; a thin fence at top, a 
steep bank down to the stream, wasn’t it ? no chance 
for a horse to see where he is going. Now, I am for 
bold riding as much as any man, but still there are 
some leaps that only a very knowing old huntsman 
has any right to take ; a man’s life and a horse’s life 
are worth more than a fox’s tail, at least I should 
say they ought to be.” 

During this time the other man had finished Gin- 
ger, and had brought our corn, and James and the 
old man left the stable together. 

107 


CHAPTER XVI 


THE FIRE 

L ATER on in the evening a traveler’s horse 
was brought in by the second ostler, and 
while he was cleaning him a young man 
with a pipe in his mouth lounged into the stable to 
gossip. 

“I say, Towler,” said the ostler, “just run up 
the ladder into the loft and put some hay down into 
this horse’s rack, will you? only lay down your 
pipe.” 

“All right,” said the other, and went up through 
the trapdoor ; and I heard him step across the floor 
overhead and put down the hay. James came in to 
look at us the last thing, and then the door was 
locked. 

I cannot say how long I had slept, nor what 
time in the night it was, but I woke up very un- 
comfortable, though I hardly knew why. I got up, 
108 


BLACK BEAUTY 


the air seemed all thick and choking. I heard Gin- 
ger coughing, and one of the other horses moved 
about restlessly; it was quite dark, and I could see 
nothing, but the stable was full of smoke and I 
hardly knew how to breathe. 

The trapdoor had been left open, and I thought 
that was the place it came through. I listened and 
heard a soft rushing sort of noise, and a low crack- 
ling and snapping. I did not know what it was, 
but there was something in the sound so strange 
that it made me tremble all over. The other horses 
were now all awake; some were pulling at their 
halters, others were stamping. 

At last I heard steps outside, and the ostler who 
had put up the traveler’s horse burst into the stable 
with a lantern, and began to untie the horses, and 
try to lead them out ; but he seemed in such a hurry 
and so frightened himself that he frightened me 
still more. The first horse would not go with him ; 
he tried the second and third ; they, too, would not 
stir. He came to me next and tried to drag me out 
of the stall by force; of course, that was of no 
109 


BLACK BEAUTY 


use. He tried us all by turns and then left the 
stable. 

No doubt, we were very foolish, but danger 
seemed to be all round, and there was nobody we 
knew to trust in, and all was strange and uncertain. 
The fresh air that had come in through the open 
door made it easier to breathe, but the rushing 
sound overhead grew louder, and as I looked up- 
ward through the bars of my empty rack, I saw 
a red light flickering on the wall. Then I heard a 
cry of “Fire!” outside, and the old ostler quietly and 
quickly came in ; he got one horse out, and went to 
another, but the flames were playing round the 
trapdoor, and the roaring overhead was dreadful. 

The next thing I heard was James’ voice, quiet 
and cheery, as it always was. 

“Come, my beauties, it is time for us to be off, so 
wake up and come along.” I stood nearest the 
door, so he came to me first, patting me as he 
came in. 

“Come, Beauty, on with your bridle, my boy, 
we’ll soon be out of this smother.” It was on in 
110 


BLACK BEAUTY 


no time; then he took the scarf off his neck and 
tied it lightly over my eyes, and patting and coax- 
ing he led me out of the stable. Safe in the yard, 
he slipped the scarf off my eyes and shouted, 
“Here, somebody! take this horse while I go back 
for the other.” 

A tall, broad man stepped forward and took me, 
and James darted back into the stable. I set up a 
shrill whinny as I saw him go. Ginger told me 
afterwards that whinny was the best thing I could 
have done for her, for had she not heard me out- 
side she would never have had courage to come out. 

There was much confusion in the yard ; the horses 
being got out of other stables, and the carriages 
and gigs being pulled out of houses and sheds, 
lest the flames should spread farther. On the other 
side the yard windows were thrown up, and people 
were shouting all sorts of things; but I kept my 
eye fixed on the stable door, where the smoke 
poured out thicker than ever, and I could see flashes 
of red light ; presently I heard above all the stir and 
din a loud, clear voice, which I knew was master’s : 


111 


BLACK BEAUTY 


“James Howard! James Howard! are you 
there?” There was no answer, but I heard a crash 
of something falling in the stable, and the next mo- 
ment I gave a loud, joyful neigh, for I saw James 
coming through the smoke leading Ginger with 
him; she was coughing violently, and he was not 
able to speak. 

“My brave lad!” said master, laying his hand on 
his shoulder. “Are you hurt?” 

James shook his head, for he could not yet speak. 

“Ay,” said the big man who held me, “he is a 
brave lad, and no mistake.” 

“And now,” said master, “when you have got 
your breath, James, we’ll get out of this place as 
quickly as we can,” and we were moving towards 
the entry, when from the Market Place there came 
a sound of galloping feet and loud, rumbling 
wheels. 

“ ’Tis the fire engine! the fire engine!” shouted 
two or three voices. “Stand back, make way!” and 
clattering and thundering over the stones two 
horses dashed into the yard with the heavy engine 
112 


BLACK BEAUTY 


behind them. The firemen leaped to the ground; 
there was no need to ask where the fire was — it was 
torching up in a great blaze from the roof. 

We got out as fast as we could into the broad, 
quiet Market Place; the stars were shining, and 
except the noise behind us all was still. Master 
led the way to a large hotel on the other side, and 
as soon as the ostler came he said, “James, I must 
now hasten to your mistress; I trust the horses 
entirely to you, order whatever you think is 
needed,” and with that he was gone. The master 
did not run, but I never saw mortal man walk so 
fast as he did that night. 

There was a dreadful sound before we got 
into our stalls ; the shrieks of those poor horses that 
were left burning to death in the stable — it was 
very terrible! and made both Ginger and me feel 
very bad. We were taken in and well done by. 

The next morning the master came to see how 
we were and to speak to James. I did not hear 
much, for the ostler was rubbing me down, but I 
could see that James looked very happy, and I 


113 


BLACK BEAUTY 


thought the master was proud of him. Our mis- 
tress had been so much alarmed in the night that 
the journey was put off till the afternoon, so 
James had the morning on hand, and went first 
to the inn to see about our harness and the carriage, 
and then to hear more about the fire. When he 
came back, we heard him tell the ostler about it. 
At first no one could guess how the fire had been 
caused, but at last a man said he saw Dick Towler 
go into the stable with a pipe in his mouth, and 
when he came out he had not one, and went to the 
tap for another. Then the under ostler said he had 
asked Dick to go up the ladder to put down some 
hay, but told him to lay down his pipe first. Dick 
denied taking the pipe with him, but no one be- 
lieved him. I remember our John Manly’s rule, 
never to allow a pipe in the stable, and thought it 
ought to be the rule everywhere. 

J ames said the roof and floor had all fallen in, 
and that only the black walls were standing; the 
two poor horses that could not be got out were 
buried under the burned rafters and tiles. 


114 


CHAPTER XVII 


JOHN MANLY'S TALK 

T HE rest of our journey was very easy, and 
a little after sunset we reached the house 
of my master’s friend. We were taken 
into a clean, snug stable; there was a kind coach- 
man, who made us very comfortable, and who 
seemed to think a good deal of James when he 
heard about the fire. 

“There is one thing quite clear, young man,” he 
said, “your horses know who they can trust; it is 
one of the hardest things in the world to get horses 
out of a stable when there is either fire or flood. 
I don’t know why they won’t come out, but they 
won’t — not one in twenty.” 

We stopped two or three days at this place and 
then returned home. All went well on the journey ; 
we were glad to be in our own stable again, and 
John was equally glad to see us. 

115 


BLACK BEAUTY 


Before he and James left us for the night, James 
said, “I wonder who is coming in my place.” 

“Little Joe Green at the Lodge,” said John. 

“Little Joe Green! why, he’s a child!” 

“He is fourteen and a half,” said John. 

“But he is such a little chap!” 

“Yes, he is small, but he is quick, and willing, 
and kind-hearted, too, and then he wishes very 
much to come, and his father would like it, and I 
know the master would like to give him the chance. 
He said if I thought he would not do he would 
look out for a bigger boy; but I said I was quite 
agreeable to try him for six weeks.” 

“Six weeks!” said James, “why, it will be six 
months before he can be of much use! it will make 
you a deal of work, John.” 

“Well,” said John with a laugh, “work and I 
are very good friends ; I never was afraid of work 
yet.” 

“You are a very good man,” said James, “I wish 
I may ever be like you.” 

“I don’t often speak of myself,” said John, “but 
116 


BLACK BEAUTY 


as you are going away from us out into the world 
to shift for yourself I’ll tell you just how I look 
on these things. I was just as old as Joseph when 
my father and mother died of the fever within ten 
days of each other, and left me and my crippled 
sister Nelly alone in the world, without a relation 
that we could look to for help. I was a farmer’s 
boy, not earning enough to keep myself, much less 
both of us, and she must have gone to the work- 
house but for our mistress (Nelly calls her her 
angel, and she has good right to do so ) . She went 
and hired a room for her with old Widow Mallet, 
and she gave her knitting and needlework when 
she was able to do it; and when she was ill, she 
sent her dinners and many nice, comfortable things, 
and was like a mother to her. Then the master, 
he took me into the stable under old Norman, the 
coachman that was then. I had my food at the 
house, and my bed in the loft, and a suit of clothes 
and three shillings a week, so that I could help 
Nelly. Then there was Norman; he might have 
turned round and said that at his age he could not 
117 


t 


BLACK BEAUTY 


be troubled with a raw boy from the plow-tail, but 
he was like a father to me, and took no end of 
pains with me. When the old man died some years 
after, I stepped into his place, and now, of course, I 
have top wages, and can lay by for a rainy day or a 
sunny day, as it may happen, and Nelly is as happy 
as a bird. So, you see, James, I am not the 
man that should turn up his nose at a little boy and 
vex a good, kind master. No! no! I shall miss you 
very much, James, but we shall pull through, and 
there’s nothing like doing a kindness when ’tis put 
in your way, and I am glad I can do it.” 

“Then,” said James, “you don’t hold with that 
saying, ‘Everybody look after himself and take 
care of number one.’ ” 

“No, indeed,” said John, “where should I and 
Nelly have been if master and mistress and old 
Norman had only taken care of number one? Why 
— she in the workhouse and I hoeing turnips! 
Where would Black Beauty and Ginger have been 
if you had only thought of number one? why, 
roasted to death! No, Jim, no! that is a selfish 
118 


BLACK BEAUTY 


heathenish saying, whoever uses it, and any man 
who thinks he has nothing to do but take care of 
number one, why, it’s a pity but what he had been 
drowned like a puppy or a kitten, before he got 
his eyes open, that’s what I think,” said John, with 
a very decided jerk of his head. 

James laughed at this; but there was a thickness 
in his voice when he said, “You have been my best 
friend except my mother. I hope you won’t forget 
me.” 

“No, lad, no!” said John, “and if ever I can do 
you a good turn I hope you won’t forget me.” 

The next day Joe came to the stables to learn all 
he could before James left. He learned to sweep 
the stable, to bring in the straw and hay ; he began 
to clean the harness, and helped to wash the car- 
riage. As he was quite too short to do anything 
in the way of grooming Ginger and me, James 
taught him upon Merrylegs, for he was to have full 
charge of him, under John. He was a nice little 
bright fellow, and always came whistling to his 
work. 


119 


BLACK BEAUTY 


Merrylegs was a good deal put out at being 
“mauled about,” as he said, “by a boy who knew 
nothing;” but towards the end of the second w T eek 
he told me confidentially that he thought the boy 
would turn out well. 

At last the day came when James had to leave 
us; cheerful as he always was, he looked quite 
downhearted that morning. 

“You see,” he said to John, “I am leaving a 
great deal behind; my mother and Betsy, and you, 
and a good master and mistress, and then the horses, 
and my old Merrylegs. At the new place there 
will not be a soul that I shall know. If it were not 
that I shall get a higher place, and be able to 
help my mother better, I don’t think I should 
have made up my mind to it; it is a real pinch, 
John.” 

“Ay, James, lad, so it is, but I should not think 
much of you if you could leave your home for the 
first time and not feel it; cheer up, you’ll make 
friends there, and if you get on well — as I am sure 
you will — it will be a fine thing for your mother, 
120 


BLACK BEAUTY 


and she will be proud enough that you have got 
into such a good place as that.” 

So John cheered him up, but every one was sorry 
to lose James; as for Merrylegs, he pined after him 
for several days, and went quite off his appetite. 
So John took him out several mornings with a lead- 
ing rein, when he exercised me, and trotting and 
galloping by my side got up the little fellow’s 
spirits again, and he was soon all right. 

Joe’s father would often come in and give a little 
help, as he understood the work, and Joe took a 
great deal of pains to learn, and John was quite 
encouraged about him. 


121 


CHAPTER XVIII 


GOING FOR THE DOCTOR 

O NE night, a few days after James had left, 
I had eaten my hay and was laid down 
in my straw fast asleep when I was sud- 
denly awakened by the stable bell ringing very 
loud. I heard the door of John’s house open, and 
his feet running up to the Hall. He was back in 
no time; he unlocked the stable door and came in, 
calling out, “Wake up, Beauty, you must go well 
now, if ever you did;” and almost before I could 
think he had got the saddle on my back and the 
bridle on my head; he just ran round for his coat, 
and then took me at a quick trot up to the Hall 
door. The Squire stood there with a lamp in his 
hand. 

“Now, John,” he said, “ride for your life, that 
is, for your mistress’ life; there is not a moment 
122 


BLACK BEAUTY 


to lose; give this note to Doctor White; give your 
horse a rest at the inn and be back as soon as you 
can.” 

John said, “Yes, sir,” and was on my back in a 
minute. The gardener who lived at the lodge had 
heard the bell ring, and was ready with the gate 
open, and away we went through the Park and 
through the village, and down the hill till we came 
to the toll-gate. John called very loudly and 
thumped upon the door ; the man was soon out and 
flung open the gate. 

“Now,” said John, “do you keep the gate open 
for the Doctor; here’s the money,” and off we went 
again. 

There was before us a long piece of level road by 
the river side; John said to me, “Now, Beauty, do 
your best,” and so I did; I wanted no whip nor 
spur, and for two miles I galloped as fast as I 
could lay my feet to the ground; I don’t believe 
that my old grandfather who won the race at New- 
market could have gone faster. When we came to 
the bridge, John pulled me up a little and patted 
123 


BLACK BEAUTY 


my neck. “Well done, Beauty! good old fellow,” 
he said. He would have let me go slower, but my 
spirit was up, and I was off again as fast as before. 
The air was frosty, the moon was bright, it was 
very pleasant; we came through a village, then 
through a dark wood, then uphill, then downhill, 
till after an eight miles’ run we came to the town, 
through the streets and into the Market Place. It 
was all quite still except the clatter of my feet on 
the stones — everybody was asleep. The church 
clock struck three as we drew up at Doctor White’s 
door. J ohn rang the bell twice, and then knocked 
at the door like thunder. A window was thrown 
up, and Doctor White, in his nightcap, put his head 
out and said, “What do you want?” 

“Mrs. Gordon is very ill, sir; master wants you 
to go at once, he thinks she will die if you cannot 
get there — here is a note.” 

“Wait,” he said. “I will come.” 

He shut the window, and was soon at the door. 

“The worst of it is,” he said, “that my horse has 
been out all day and is quite done up ; my son has 
124 


BLACK BEAUTY^ 


just been sent for, and he has taken the other. 
What is to be done? Can I have your horse?” 

“He has come at a gallop nearly all the way, sir., 
and I was to give him a rest here; but I think my 
master would not be against it if you think fit, sir.” 

“All right,” he said, “I will soon be ready.” 

John stood by me and stroked my neck, I was 
very hot. The Doctor came out with his riding 
whip. 

“You need not take that, sir,” said John. “Black 
Beauty will go till he drops; take care of him, sir, 
if you can; I should not like any harm to come to 
him.” 

“No! no! John,” said the Doctor, “I hope not,” 
and in a minute we had left John far behind. 

I will not tell about our way back; the Doctor 
was a heavier man than John, and not so good a 
rider; however, I did my very best. The man at 
the toll-gate had it open. When we came to the hill, 
the Doctor drew me up. “Now, my good fellow,” 
he said, “take some breath.” I was glad he did, for 
I was nearly spent, but that breathing helped me 
125 


BLACK BEAUTY 


on, and soon we were in the Park. Joe was at 
the lodge gate> my master was at the Hall door, for 
he had heard us coming. He spoke not a word; 
the Doctor went into the house with him, and Joe 
led me to the stable. I was glad to get home, my 
legs shook under me, and I could only stand and 
pant. I had not a dry hair on my body, the water 
ran down my legs, and I steamed all over — Joe 
used to say, like a pot on the fire. Poor Joe! he 
was young and small, and as yet he knew very little, 
and his father, who would have helped him, had 
been sent to the next village ; but I am sure he did 
the very best he knew. He rubbed my legs and my 
chest, but he did not put my warm cloth on me ; he 
thought I was so hot I should not like it. Then he 
gave me a pail full of water to drink; it was cold 
and very good, and I drank it all ; then he gave me 
some hay and some corn, and thinking he had done 
right he went away. Soon I began to shake and 
tremble, and turned deadly cold, my legs ached, 
my loins ached, and my chest ached, and I felt sore 
all over. Oh! how I wished for my warm, thick 
126 


BLACK BEAUTY 


cloth as I stood and trembled. I wished for John, 
but he had eight miles to walk, so I lay down in my 
straw and tried to go to sleep. After a long while 
I heard J ohn at the door ; I gave a low moan, for I 
was in great pain. He was at my side in a moment, 
stooping down by me; I could not tell him how I 
felt; but he seemed to know it all; he covered me 
up with two or three warm cloths, and then ran to 
the house for some hot water; he made me some 
warm gruel, which I drank, and then I think I 
went to sleep. 

John seemed to be very much put out. I heard 
him say to himself, over and over again, “Stupid 
boy! stupid boy! no cloth put on, and I dare say 
the water was cold, too; boys are no good,” but 
Joe was a good boy after all. 

I was now very ill; a strong inflammation had 
attacked my lungs and I could not draw my breath 
without pain. John nursed me night and day, he 
would get up two or three times in the night to 
come to me ; my master, too, often came to see me. 
“My poor Beauty,” he said one day, “my good 
127 


BLACK BEAUTY 


horse, you saved your mistress’ life, Beauty! yes, 
you saved her life.” I was very glad to hear that, 
for it seems the Doctor had said if we had been a 
little longer it would have been too late. John told 
my master he never saw a horse go so fast in his 
life, it seemed as if the horse knew what was the 
matter. Of course I did, though John thought 
not; at least, I knew as much as this, that John and 
I must go at the top of our speed, and that it was 
for the sake of the mistress. 


128 


CHAPTER XIX 


ONLY IGNORANCE 

I DO not know how long I was ill. Mr. Bond, 
the horse doctor, came every day. One day 
he bled me; John held a pail for the blood; 
I felt very faint after it, and thought I should die, 
and I believe they all thought so, too. 

Ginger and Merrylegs had been moved into the 
other stable, so that I might be quiet, for the fever 
made me very quick of hearing; any little noise 
seemed quite loud, and I could tell every one’s 
footstep going to and from the house. I knew all 
that was going on. One night John had to give me 
a draught; Thomas Green came in to help him. 
After I had taken it and John had made me as com- 
fortable as he could he said he should stay half an 
hour to see how the medicine settled. Thomas said 
he would stay with him, so they went and sat down 
129 


BLACK BEAUTY 


on a bench that had been brought into Merrylegs’ 
stall, and put down the lantern at their feet that 
I might not be disturbed with the light. 

For a while both men sat silent, and then Tom 
Green said in a low voice: 

“I wish, John, you’d say a bit of a kind word to 
Joe; the boy is quite broken-hearted, he can’t eat his 
meals, and he can’t smile. He says he knows it 
was all his fault, though he is sure he did the best 
he knew, and he says, if Beauty dies, no one wil) 
ever speak to him again. It goes to my heart to 
hear him; I think you might give him just a word, 
he is not a bad boy.” 

After a short pause, John said slowly, “You 
must not be too hard upon me, Tom. I know he 
meant no harm, I never said he did ; I know he is 
not a bad boy, but, you see, I am sore myself. That 
horse is the pride of my heart, to say nothing of 
his being such a favorite with the master and mis- 
tress; and to think that his life may be flung away 
in this manner is more than I can bear ; but if you 
think I am hard on the boy I will try to give him a 
130 


BLACK BEAUTY 

good word to-morrow — that is, I mean if Beauty 
is better.” 

“Well, John! thank you, I knew you did not 
wish to be too hard, and I am glad you see it was 
only ignorance.” 

John’s voice almost startled me as he answered, 
“Only ignorance ; only ignorance ! how can you talk 
about only ignorance? Don’t you know that it is 
the worst thing in the world, next to wickedness ? — 
and which does the most mischief Heaven only 
knows. If people can say, ‘Oh! I did not know, I 
did not mean any harm,’ they think it is all right. 
I suppose Martha Mulwash did not mean to kill 
that baby when she dosed it with Dalby and sooth- 
ing syrups; but she did kill it, and was tried for 
manslaughter.” 

“And serve her right, too,” said Tom. “A 
woman should not undertake to nurse a tender little 
child without knowing what is good and what is 
bad for it.” 

“Bill Starkey,” continued John, “did not mean 
to frighten his brother into fits when he dressed 
131 


BLACK BEAUTY 


up like a ghost and ran after him in the moonlight; 
but he did ; and that bright, handsome little fellow, 
that might have been the pride of any mother’s 
heart, is just no better than an idiot, and never will 
be, if he live to be eighty years old. You were a 
good deal cut up yourself, Tom, two weeks ago, 
when those young ladies left your hothouse door 
open, with a frosty east wind blowing right in; you 
said it killed a good many of your plants.” 

“A good many!” said Tom. “There was not one 
of the tender cuttings that was not nipped off; I 
shall have to strike all over again, and the worst of 
it is that I don’t know where to go to get fresh ones. 
I was nearly mad when I came in and saw what 
was done.” 

“And yet,” said John, “I am sure the young 
ladies did not mean it; it was only ignorance!” 

I heard no more of this conversation, for the 
medicine did well and sent me to sleep, and in the 
morning I felt much better; but I often thought 
of J ohn’s words when I came to know more of the 
world. 


182 


CHAPTER XX 


JOE GREEN 

J OE GREEX went on very well; he learned 
quickly, and was so attentive and careful that 
John began to trust him in many things; but, 
as I have said, he was small of his age, and it was 
seldom that he was allowed to exercise either Gin- 
ger or me; but it so happened one morning that 
John was out with Justice in the luggage cart, 
and the master wanted a note to be taken immedi- 
ately to a gentleman’s house, about three miles dis- 
tant, and sent his orders for Joe to saddle me and 
take it, adding the caution that he was to ride 
carefully. 

The note was delivered, and we were quietly re- 
turning till we came to the brickfield. Here we saw 
a cart heavily laden with bricks; the wheels had 
stuck fast in the stiff mud of some deep ruts, and 


133 


BLACK BEAUTY 


the carter was shouting and flogging the two horses 
unmercifully. Joe pulled up. It was a sad sight. 
There were the two horses straining and struggling 
with all their might to drag the cart out, but they 
could not move it; the sweat streamed from their 
legs and flanks, their sides heaved, and every mus- 
cle was strained, while the man, fiercely pulling at 
the head of the forehorse, swore and lashed most 
brutally. 

“Hold hard,” said Joe, “don’t go on flogging 
the horses like that; the wheels are so stuck that 
they cannot move the cart.” The man took no 
heed, but went on lashing. 

“Stop! pray stop,” said Joe; “I’ll help you to 
lighten the cart, they can’t move it now.” 

“Mind your own business, you impudent young 
rascal, and I’ll mind mine.” The man was in a 
towering passion, and the worse for drink, and laid 
on the whip again. Joe turned my head, and the 
next moment we were going at a round gallop 
towards the house of the master brickmaker. I 
cannot say if John would have approved of our 
134 


BLACK BEAUTY 


pace, but Joe and I were both of one mind, and so 
angry that we could not have gone slower. 

The house stood close by the roadside. Joe 
knocked at the door and shouted, “Hulloa! is Mr. 
Clay at home?” The door was opened, and Mr. 
Clay himself came out. 

“Hulloa! young man! you seem in a hurry; any 
orders from the squire this morning?” 

“No, Mr. Clay, but there’s a fellow in your brick- 
yard flogging two horses to death. I told him to 
stop and he wouldn’t; I said I’d help him to lighten 
the cart, and he wouldn’t; so I have come to tell 
you; pray, sir, go.” Joe’s voice shook with ex- 
citement. 

“Thank ye, my lad,” said the man, running in 
for his hat; then pausing for a moment — “Will you 
give evidence of what you saw if I should bring the 
fellow up before a magistrate?” 

“That I will,” said Joe, “and glad, too.” The 
man was gone, and we were on our way home at a 
smart trot. 

“Why, what’s the matter with you, Joe? You 
135 


BLACK BEAUTY 


look angry all over,” said John, as the boy flung 
himself from the saddle. 

‘T am angry all over, I can tell you,” said the 
boy, and then in hurried, excited words he told all 
that had happened. Joe was usually such a quiet 
fellow that it was wonderful to see him so roused. 

“Right, Joe! you did right, my boy, whether the 
fellow gets a summons or not. Many folks would 
have ridden by and said ’twas not their business to 
interfere. Now, I say that with cruelty and op- 
pression it is everybody’s business to interfere when 
they see it; you did right, my boy.” 

Joe was quite calm by this time, and proud that 
J ohn approved of him, and he cleaned out my feet, 
and rubbed me down with a firmer hand than usual. 

They were just going home to dinner when the 
footman came down to the stable to say that Joe 
was wanted directly in master’s private room ; there 
was a man brought up for ill-using horses, and 
J oe’s evidence was wanted. The boy flushed up to 
his forehead, and his eyes sparkled. “They shall 
have it, ’ ’ said he. 


136 


BLACK BEAUTY 


“Put yourself a bit straight,” said John. Joe 
gave a pull at his necktie and a twitch at his jacket, 
and was off in a moment. Our master being one 
of the county magistrates, cases were often brought 
to him to settle, or say what should be done. In 
the stable we heard no more for some time, as it 
was the men’s dinner hour, but when Joe came next 
into the stable I saw he was in high spirits ; he gave 
me a good-natured slap and said, “We won’t see 
such things done, will we, old fellow?” We heard 
afterwards that he had given his evidence so clearly, 
and the horses were in such an exhausted state, 
bearing marks of such brutal usage, that the carter 
was committed to take his trial, and might possibly 
be sentenced to two or three months in prison. 

It was wonderful what a change had come over 
Joe. John laughed and said he had grown an inch 
taller in that week, and I believe he had. He was 
just as kind and gentle as before, but there was 
more purpose and determination in all that he did 
— as if he had jumped at once from a boy into a 


man. 


137 


CHAPTER XXI 


THE PARTING 

I HAD now lived in this happy place three years, 
but sad changes were about to come over us. 
We heard from time to time that our mistress 
was ill. The Doctor was often at the house, and 
the master looked grave and anxious. Then we 
heard that she must leave her home at once and go 
to a warm country for two or three years. The 
news fell upon the household like the tolling of a 
death-bell. Everybody was sorry; but the master 
began directly to make arrangements for breaking 
up his establishment and leaving England. We 
used to hear it talked about in our stable; indeed, 
nothing else was talked about. 

John went about his work silent and sad, and Joe 
scarcely whistled. There was a great deal of com- 
ing and going; Ginger and I had full work. 

The first of the party who went were Miss Jessie 
138 


BLACK BEAUTY 


and Flora, with their governess. They came to bid 
us good-by. They hugged poor Merrylegs like an 
old friend, and so, indeed, he was. Then we heard 
what had been arranged for us. Master had sold 
Ginger and me to his old friend, the Earl of 

W , for he thought we should have a good place 

there. Merrylegs he had given to the Vicar, who 
was wanting a pony for Mrs. Blomefield, but it was 
on the condition that he should never be sold, and 
when he was past work that he should be shot and 
buried. 

Joe was engaged to take care of him and to help 
in the house, so I thought that Merrylegs was well 
off. John had the offer of several good places, but 
he said he should wait a little and look around. 

The evening before they left, the master came 
into the stable to give some directions and to give 
his horses the last pat. He seemed very low-spir- 
ited ; I knew that by his voice. I believe we horses 
can tell more by the voice than many men can. 

“Have you decided what to do, John?” he said. 
“I find you have not accepted any of those offers.” 

139 


BLACK BEAUTY 


“No, sir. I have made up my mind that if I 
could get a situation with some first-rate colt- 
breaker and horse-trainer that it would be the right 
thing for me. Many young animals are frightened 
and spoiled by wrong treatment, which need not 
be if the right man took them in hand. I always 
get on well with horses, and if I could help some of 
them to a fair start I should feel as if I was doing 
some good. What do you think of it, sir?” 

“I don’t know a man anywhere,” said master, 
“that I should think so suitable for it as yourself. 
You understand horses, and somehow they under- 
stand you, and in time you might set up for your- 
self; I think you could not do better. If in any 
way I can help you, write to me; I shall speak to 
my agent in London, and leave your character with 
him.” 

Master gave John the name and address, and 
then he thanked him for his long and faithful serv- 
ice; but that was too much for John. “Pray don’t, 
sir, I can’t bear it ; you and my dear mistress have 
done so much for me that I could never repay it; 

140 


BLACK BEAUTY 


but we shall never forget you, sir, and please God 
we may some day see mistress back again like her- 
self; we must keep up hope, sir.” Master gave 
J ohn his hand, but he did not speak, and they both 
left the stable. 

The last sad day had come ; the footman and the 
heavy luggage had gone off the day before, and 
there was only master and mistress and her maid. 
Ginger and I brought the carriage up to the Hall 
door for the last time. The servants brought out 
cushions and rugs and many other things, and when 
all were arranged master came down the steps car- 
rying the mistress in his arms (I was on the side 
next the house and could see all that went on) ; he 
placed her carefully in the carriage, while the house 
servants stood round crying. 

“Good-by, again,” he said, “we shall not forget 
any of you,” and he got in — “Drive on, John.” 

Joe jumped up, and we trotted slowly through 
the Park and through the village, where the people 
were standing at their doors to have a last look and 
to say, “God bless them.” 


141 


BLACK BEAUTY 


When we reached the railway station, I think 
mistress walked from the carriage to the waiting 
room. I heard her say in her own sweet voice, 
“Good-by, John, God bless you.” I felt the rein 
twitch, but John made no answer, perhaps he could 
not speak. As soon as Joe had taken the things 
out of the carriage, John called him to stand by 
the horses, while he went on the platform. Poor 
Joe! he stood close up to our heads to hide his tears. 
Very soon the train came puffing up into the sta- 
tion ; then two or three minutes, and the doors were 
slammed to; the guard whistled, and the train 
glided away, leaving behind it only clouds of white 
smoke, and some very heavy hearts. 

When it was quite out of sight, John came back. 

“We shall never see her again,” he said — 
“never.” He took the reins, mounted the box, and 
with Joe drove slowly home; but it was not our 
home now. 


142 


PART II 


CHAPTER XXII 

EARLSHALL 

T HE next morning after breakfast Joe put 
Merrylegs into the mistress’ low chaise 
to take him to the vicarage. He came first 
and said good-by to us, and Merrylegs neighed to 
us from the yard. Then John put the saddle on 
Ginger and the leading rein on me, and rode us 
across the country about fifteen miles to Earlshall 

Park, where the Earl of W lived. There was 

a very fine house and a great deal of stabling; we 
went into the yard through a stone gateway, and 
John asked for Mr. York. It was some time be- 
fore he came. He was a fine-looking, middle-aged 
man, and his voice said at once that he expected to 
be obeyed. He was very friendly and polite to 
John, and after giving us a slight look he called a 
143 


BLACK BEAUTY 


groom to take us to our boxes and invited J ohn to 
take some refreshment. 

W e were taken to a light, airy stable, and placed 
in boxes adjoining each other, where we were 
rubbed down and fed. In about half an hour 
John and Mr. York, who was to be our new coach- 
man, came in to see us. 

“Now, Mr. Manly,” he said, after carefully look- 
ing at us both, “I can see no fault in these horses, 
but we all know that horses have their peculiarities 
as well as men, and that sometimes they need dif- 
ferent treatment; I should like to know if there is 
anything particular in either of these that you 
would like to mention.” 

“Well,” said John, “I don’t believe there is a 
better pair of horses in the country, and right 
grieved I am to part with them, but they are not 
alike. The black one is the most perfect temper I 
ever knew; I suppose he has never known a hard 
word or a blow since he was foaled, and all his 
pleasure seems to be to do what you wish ; but the 
chestnut, I fancy, must have had bad treatment; 

144 


* 




On the road to 


Earlshall 




BLACK BEAUTY 


we heard as much from the dealer. She came to 
us snappish and suspicious, but when she found 
what sort of place ours was, it all went off by de- 
grees ; for three years I have never seen the small- 
est sign of temper, and if she is well treated there 
is not a better, more willing animal than she is ; but 
she is naturally a more irritable constitution than 
the black horse; flies tease her more; anything 
wrong in the harness frets her more, and if she 
were ill-used or unfairly treated she would not be 
unlikely to give tit for tat; you know that many 
high-mettled horses will do so.” 

“Of course,” said York, “but you know it is not 
easy in stables to have all the grooms just what they 
should be ; I do my best, and there I must leave it. 
I’ll remember what you have said about the mare.” 

They were going out of the stable when John 
stopped and said, “I had better mention that we 
have never used the ‘bearing rein’ with either of 
them; the black horse never had one on, and the 
dealer said it was the gag-bit that spoiled the 
other’s temper.” 


147 


BLACK BEAUTY 


“Well,” said York, “if they come here they must 
wear the bearing rein. I prefer a loose rein myself, 
and his lordship is always very reasonable about 
horses ; but my lady — that’s another thing — she will 
have style ; and if her carriage horses are not reined 
up tight she wouldn’t look at them. I always stand 
out against the gag-bit, and shall do so, but it must 
be tight up when my lady rides!” 

“I am sorry for it, very sorry,” said John, “but 
I must go now, or I shall lose the train.” 

He came round to each of us to pat and speak to 
us for the last time ; his voice sounded very sad. 

I held my face close to him, that was all I could 
do to say good-by; and then he was gone, and I 
have never seen him since. 

The next day Lord W came to look at us; 

he seemed pleased with our appearance. 

“I have great confidence in these horses,” he 
said, “from the character my friend, Mr. Gordon, 
has given me of them. Of course, they are not a 
match in color, but my idea is that they will do very 
well for the carriage while we are in the country. 

148 


BLACK BEAUTY 


Before we go to London I must try to match 
Baron; the black horse, I believe, is perfect for 
riding.” 

York then told him what John had said about us. 

‘‘Well,” said he, “you must keep an eye to the 
mare, and put the bearing rein easy ; I dare say they 
will do very well with a little humoring at first. I’ll 
mention it to her ladyship.” 

In the afternoon we were harnessed and put in 
the carriage, and as the stable clock struck three 
we were led round to the front of the house. It 
was all very grand, and three or four times as large 
as the old house at Birtwick, but not half so pleas- 
ant, if a horse may have an opinion. Two footmen 
were standing ready, dressed in drab livery, with 
scarlet breeches and white stockings. Presently we 
heard the rustling sound of silk as my lady came 
down the flight of stone steps. She stepped round 
to look at us ; she was a tall, proud-looking woman, 
and did not seem pleased about something, but she 
said nothing and got into the carriage. This was 
the first time of wearing a bearing rein, and I must 
149 


BLACK BEAUTY 


say, though it certainly was a nuisance not to be 
able to get my head down now and then, it did not 
pull my head higher than I was accustomed to carry 
it. I felt anxious about Ginger, but she seemed to 
be quiet and content. 

The next day at three o’clock we were again at 
the door, and the footmen as before; we heard the 
silk dress rustle, and the lady came down the steps, 
and in an imperious voice she said, “York, you must 
put those horses’ heads higher, they are not fit to 
be seen.” 

York got down and said very respectfully, “I 
beg your pardon, my lady, but those horses have 
not been reined up for three years, and my lord 
said it would be safer to bring them to it by de- 
grees ; but if your ladyship pleases, I can take them 
up a little more.” 

“Do so,” she said. 

York came round to our heads and shortened the 
rein himself, one hole, I think; every little makes 
a difference, be it for better or worse, and that day 
we had a steep hill to go up. Then I began to 
150 


BLACK BEAUTY 


understand what I had heard of. Of course, I 
wanted to put my head forward and take the car- 
riage up with a will, as we had been used to do ; but 
no, I had to pull with my head up now, and that 
took all the spirit out of me, and the strain came 
on my back and legs. When we came in, Ginger 
said, “Now, you see what it is like, but this is not 
bad, and if it does not get much worse than this 
I shall say nothing about it, for we are very well 
treated here ; but if they strain me up tight, why, 
let ’em look out! I can’t bear it, and I won’t.” 

Day by day, hole by hole, our bearing reins were 
shortened, and instead of looking forward with 
pleasure to having my harness put on, as I used to 
do, I began to dread it. Ginger, too, seemed rest- 
less, though she said very little. At last I thought 
the worst was over; for several days there was no 
more shortening, and I determined to make the 
best of it and do my duty, though it was now a 
constant harass instead of a pleasure ; but the worst 
was not come. 


151 


CHAPTER XXIII 


A STRIKE FOR LIBERTY 

O NE day my lady came down later than 
usual, and the silk rustled more than 
ever. 

“Drive to the Duchess of B ’s,” she said, 

and then after a pause — “Are you never going to 
get those horses’ heads up, York? Raise them at 
once, and let us have no more of this humoring and 
nonsense.” 

York came to me first, while the groom stood at 
Ginger’s head. He drew my head back and fixed 
the rein so tight that it was almost intolerable ; then 
he went to Ginger, who was impatiently jerking 
her head up and down against the bit, as was her 
way now. She had a good idea of what was com- 
ing, and the moment York took the rein off the 
terret in order to shorten it she took her oppor- 
tunity and reared up so suddenly that York had his 
152 


BLACK BEAUTY 


nose roughly hit and his hat knocked off ; the groom 
was nearly thrown off his legs. At once they both 
flew to her head, but she was a match for them, and 
went on plunging, rearing and kicking in a most 
desperate manner ; at last she kicked right over the 
carriage pole and fell down, after giving me a 
severe blow on my near quarter. There is no know- 
ing what further mischief she might have done had 
not York promptly sat himself down flat on her 
head to prevent her struggling, at the same time 
calling out, “Unbuckle the black horse! run for the 
winch and unscrew the carriage pole; cut the trace 
here — somebody, if you can’t unhitch it.” One of 
the footmen ran for the winch, and another brought 
a knife from the house. The groom soon set me 
free from Ginger and the carriage, and led me to 
my box. He just turned me in as I was, and ran 
back to York. I was much excited by what had 
happened, and if I had ever been used to kick or 
rear I am sure I should have done it then; but I 
never had, and there I stood, angry, sore in my 
]eg, my head still strained up to the terret on the 
153 


BLACK BEAUTY 


saddle, and no power to get it down. I was very 
miserable, and felt inclined to kick the first person 
who came near me. 

Before long, however, Ginger was led in by two 
grooms, a good deal knocked about and bruised. 
York came with her and gave his orders, and then 
came to look at me. In a moment he let down my 
head. 

“Confound these bearing reins!” he said to him- 
self, “I thought we should have some mischief soon 
— master will be sorely vexed; but there — if a 
woman’s husband can’t rule her of course a servant 
can’t; so I wash my hands of it, and if she can’t 
get to the Duchess’ garden party, I can’t help it.” 

York did not say this before the men; he always 
spoke respectfully when they were by. Now, he 
felt me all over, and soon found the place above 
my hock where I had been kicked. It was swelled 
and painful; he ordered it to be sponged with hot 
water, and then some lotion was put on. 

Lord W was much put out when he learned 

what had happened; he blamed York for giving 
J54 


BLACK BEAUTY 


way to his mistress, to which he replied that in 
future he would much prefer to receive his orders 
only from his lordship; but I think nothing came 
of it, for things went on the same as before. I 
thought York might have stood up better for his 
horses, but perhaps I am no judge. 

Ginger was never put into the carriage again, 
but when she was well of her bruises one of Lord 

W ’s younger sons said he should like to have 

her; he was sure she would make a good hunter. 
As for me, I was obliged still to go in the carriage, 
and had a fresh partner called Max ; he had always 
been used to the tight rein. I asked him how it was 
he bore it. 

“Well,” he said, “I bear it because I must, but 
it is shortening my life, and it will shorten yours, 
too, if you have to stick to it.” 

“Do you think,” I said, “that our masters know 
how bad it is for us?” 

“I can’t say,” he replied, “but the dealers and the 
horse doctors know it very well. I was at a dealer’s 
once who was training me and another horse to go 
1 55 


BLACK BEAUTY 


as a pair; he was getting our heads up, as he said, 
a little higher and a little higher every day. A 
gentleman who was there asked him why he did so ; 
‘Because,’ said he, ‘people won’t buy them unless 
we do. The London people always want their 
horses to carry their heads high and to step high ; of 
course, it is very bad for the horses, but then it is 
good for trade. The horses soon wear up, or get 
diseased, and they come for another pair.’ That,” 
said Max, “is what he said in my hearing, and you 
can judge for yourself.” 

What I suffered with that rein for four long 
months in my lady’s carriage it would be hard to 
describe; but I am quite sure that, had it lasted 
much longer, either my health or my temper would 
have given way. Before that, I never knew what it 
was to foam at the mouth, but now the action of 
the sharp bit on my tongue and jaw, and the con- 
strained position of my head and throat, always 
caused me to froth at the mouth more or less. 
Some people think it very fine to see this, and say, 
“What fine, spirited creatures!” But it is just 
156 


BLACK BEAUTY 


as unnatural for horses as for men to foam at 
the mouth; it is a sure sign of some discomfort, and 
should be attended to. Besides this, there was 
a pressure on my windpipe which often made my 
breathing very uncomfortable. When I returned 
from my work, my neck and chest were strained 
and painful, my mouth and tongue tender, and I 
felt worn and depressed. 

In my old home I always knew that John and 
my master were my friends; but here, although in 
many ways I was well treated, I had no friend. 
Y ork might have known, and very likely did know, 
how that rein harassed me ; but I suppose he took it 
as a matter of course that could not be helped. At 
any rate, nothing was done to relieve me. 


157 


CHAPTER XXIV 


THE LADY ANNE, OR A RUNAWAY HORSE 

E ARLY in the spring Lord W and part 

of his family went up to London and took 
York with them. I and Ginger and some 
other horses were left at home for use, and the head 
groom was left in charge. 

The Lady Harriet, who remained at the Hall, 
was a great invalid, and never went out in the car- 
riage, and the Lady Anne preferred riding on 
horseback with her brother, or cousins. She was 
a perfect horsewoman, and as gay and gentle as 
she was beautiful. She chose me for her horse, 
and named me “Black Auster.” I enjoyed these 
rides very much in the clear, cold air, sometimes 
with Ginger, sometimes with Lizzie. This Lizzie 
was a bright bay mare, almost thoroughbred, and 
a great favorite with the gentlemen on account of 
her fine action and lively spirit; but Ginger, who 
158 





“She was a perfect horsewoman . ” 





BLACK BEAUTY 


knew more of her than I did, told me she was rather 
nervous. 

There was a gentleman of the name of Blantyre 
staying at the Hall; he always rode Lizzie, and 
praised her so much that one day Lady Anne 
ordered the side-saddle to be put on her, and the 
other saddle on me. When we came to the door, the 
gentleman seemed very uneasy. 

“How is this?” he said. “Are you tired of your 
good Black Auster?” 

“Oh! no, not at all,” she replied, “but I am 
amiable enough to let you ride him for once, and 
I will try your charming Lizzie. You must con- 
fess that in size and appearance she is far more 
like a lady’s horse than my own favorite.” 

“Do let me advise you not to mount her,” he 
said. “She is a charming creature, but she is too 
nervous for a lady. I assure you she is not per- 
fectly safe. Let me beg you to have the saddles 
changed.” 

“My dear cousin,” said Lady Anne, laughing, 
“pray do not trouble your good, careful head about 
159 


BLACK BEAUTY 


me. I have been a horsewoman ever since I was a 
baby, and I have followed the hounds a great many 
times, though I know you do not approve of ladies 
hunting; but still that is the fact, and I intend 
to try this Lizzie that you gentlemen are all so fond 
of ; so please help me to mount like a good friend, 
as you are.” 

There was no more to be said; he placed her 
carefully on the saddle, looked to the bit and curb, 
gave the reins gently into her hand, and then 
mounted me. Just as we were moving off, a foot- 
man came out with a slip of paper and message 
from the Lady Harriet — “Would they ask this 
question for her at Dr. Ashley’s, and bring the 
answer?” 

The village was about a mile off, and the Doc- 
tor’s house was the last in it. We went along gayly 
enough till we came to his gate. There was a short 
drive up to the house between tall evergreens. 
Blantyre alighted at the gate, and was going to 
open it for Lady Anne, but she said, “I will wait 
here, and you can hang Auster’s rein on the gate.” 

160 






'* X have followed the hounds a great many times. 


f 


i 

















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































BLACK BEAUTY 


He looked at her doubtfully. “I will not be 
five minutes/’ he said. 

“Oh, do not hurry yourself. Lizzie and I shall 
not run away from you.” 

He hung my rein on one of the iron spikes, and 
was soon hidden among the trees. Lizzie was 
standing quietly by the side of the road a few paces 
off with her back to me. My young mistress was 
sitting easily with a loose rein, humming a little 
song. I listened to my rider’s footsteps until they 
reached the house, and heard him knock at the door. 
There was a meadow on the opposite side of the 
road, the gate of which stood open. Just then, 
some cart horses and several young colts came trot- 
ting out in a very disorderly manner, while a boy 
behind was cracking a great whip. The colts were 
wild and frolicsome, and one of them bolted across 
the road and blundered up against Lizzie’s hind 
legs, and whether it was the stupid colt, or the loud 
cracking of the whip, or both together, I cannot 
say, but she gave a violent kick and dashed off into 
a headlong gallop. It was so sudden that Lady 
163 


BLACK BEAUTY 


Anne was nearly unseated, but she soon recovered 
herself. I gave a loud, shrill neigh for help ; again 
and again I neighed, pawing the ground impa- 
tiently and tossing my head to get the rein loose. 
I had not long to wait. Blantyre came running 
to the gate; he looked anxiously about, and just 
caught sight of the flying figure, now far away on 
the road. In an instant he sprang to the saddle. I 
needed no whip, or spur, for I was as eager as my 
rider ; he saw it, and giving me a free rein, and lean- 
ing a little forward, we dashed after them. 

For about a mile and a half the road ran straight, 
and then bent to the right, after which it divided 
into two roads. Long before we came to the bend 
she was out of sight. Which way had she turned? 
A woman was standing at her garden gate, shading 
her eyes with her hand and looking eagerly up the 
road. Scarcely drawing the rein, Blantyre shouted, 
“Which way?” “To the right,” cried the woman, 
pointing with her hand, and away we went up the 
right-hand road; then for a moment we caught 
sight of her; another bend and she was hidden 
164 


BLACK BEAUTY 


again. Several times we caught glimpses, and then 
lost them. We scarcely seemed to gain ground 
upon them at all. An old road-mender was stand- 
ing near a heap of stones — his shovel dropped and 
his hands raised. As we came near, he made a sign 
to speak. Blantyre drew the rein a little. “To the 
common, to the common, sir; she has turned off 
there.” I knew this common very well. It was 
for the most part very uneven ground, covered with 
heather and dark green furze bushes, with here and 
there a scrubby old thorn tree. There were also 
open spaces of fine, short grass, with ant hills and 
mole turns everywhere — the worst place I ever 
knew for a headlong gallop. 

We had hardly turned on the common when we 
caught sight again of the green habit flying on be- 
fore us. My lady’s hat was gone, and her long, 
brown hair was streaming behind her. Her head 
and body were thrown back, as if she were pulling 
with all her remaining strength, and as if that 
strength were nearly exhausted. It was clear that 
the roughness of the ground had very much less- 
165 


BLACK BEAUTY 


ened Lizzie’s speed, and there seemed a chance that 
we might overtake her. 

While we were on the high road, Blantyre had 
given me my head ; but now, with a light hand and 
a practiced eye, he guided me over the ground in 
such a masterly manner that my pace was scarcely 
slackened, and we were decidedly gaining on them. 

About half way across the heath there had been 
a wide dyke recently cut, and the earth from the 
cutting was cast up roughly on the other side. 
Surely this would stop them ! but no ; with scarcely 
a pause Lizzie took the leap, stumbled among the 
rough clods, and fell. Blantyre groaned, “Now, 
Auster, do your best !” He gave me a steady rein, 
I gathered myself well together, and with one de- 
termined leap cleared both dyke and bank. 

Motionless among the heather, with her face to 
the earth, lay my poor young mistress. Blantyre 
kneeled down and called her name — there was no 
sound. Gently he turned her face upward, it was 
ghastly white, and the eyes were closed. “Annie, 
dear Annie, do speak!” but there was no answer. 

166 


BLACK BEAUTY 


He unbuttoned her habit, loosened her collar, felt 
her hands and wrists, then started up and looked 
wildly round him for help. 

At no great distance there were two men cutting 
turf, who, seeing Lizzie running wild without a 
rider, had left their work to catch her. 

Blantyre’s halloo soon brought them to the spot. 
The foremost man seemed much troubled at the 
sight, and asked what he could do. 

“Can you ride?” 

“Well, sir, I bean’t much of a horseman, but I’d 
risk my neck for the Lady Anne; she was uncom- 
mon good to my wife in the winter.” 

“Then mount this horse, my friend; your neck 
will be quite safe, and ride to the Doctor’s and ask 
him to come instantly — then on to the Hall — tell 
them all that you know, and bid them send me the 
carriage with Lady Anne’s maid and help. I shall 
stay here.” 

“All right, sir, I’ll do my best, and I pray God 
the dear young lady may open her eyes soon.” 
Then seeing the other man, he called out, “Here, 
167 


BLACK BEAUTY 


Joe, run for some water, and tell my missis to come 
as quick as she can to the Lady Anne.” 

He then somehow scrambled into the saddle, and 
with a “Gee up” and a clap on my sides with both 
his legs he started on his journey, making a little 
circuit to avoid the dyke. He had no whip, which 
seemed to trouble him, but my pace soon cured that 
difficulty, and he found the best thing he could do 
was to stick to the saddle and hold me in, which 
he did manfully. I shook him as little as I could 
help, but once or twice on the rough ground he 
called out, “Steady! Whoa! Steady!” On the 
high road we were all right, and at the Doctor’s and 
the Hall he did his errand like a good man and true. 
They asked him in to take a drop of something. 
“No, no!” he said, “I’ll be back to ’em again by a 
short cut through the fields, and be there afore the 
carriage.” 

There was a great deal of hurry and excitement 
after the news became known. I was just turned 
into my box, the saddle and bridle were taken off, 
and a cloth thrown over me. 

168 


BLACK BEAUTY 


Ginger was saddled and sent off in great haste 
for Lord George, and I soon heard the carriage 
roll out of the yard. 

It seemed a long time before Ginger came back 
and before we were left alone; and then she told 
me all that she had seen. 

“I can’t tell much,” she said. “We went a gal- 
lop nearly all the way, and got there just as the 
Doctor rode up. There was a woman sitting on the 
ground, with the lady’s head in her lap. The Doc- 
tor poured something into her mouth, but all that 
I heard was, ‘she is not dead.’ Then I was led off 
by a man to a little distance. After a while she 
was taken to the carriage, and we came home to- 
gether. I heard my master say to a gentleman who 
stopped him to inquire that he hoped no bones were 
broken, but that she had not spoken yet.” 

When Lord George took Ginger for hunting, 
York shook his head ; he said it ought to be a steady 
hand to train a horse for the first season, and not a 
random rider like Lord George. % 

Ginger used to like it very much, but sometimes 
169 


BLACK BEAUTY 


when she came back I could see that she had been 
very much strained, and now and then she gave a 
short cough. She had too much spirit to complain, 
but I could not help feeling anxious about her. 

Two days after the accident, Blantyre paid me a 
visit. He patted me and praised me very much; 
he told Lord George that he was sure the horse 
knew of Annie’s danger as well as he did. “I could 
not have held him in if I would,” said he. “She 
ought never to ride any other horse.” I found by 
their conversation that my young mistress was now 
out of danger, and would soon be able to ride again. 
This was good news to me, and I looked forward to 
a happy life. 


170 



Reuben and Susan. 
















$ 






CHAPTER XXV 


REUBEN SMITH 

I MUST now say a little about Reuben Smith, 
who was left in charge of the stables when 
York went to London. No one more thor- 
oughly understood his business than he did, and 
when he was all right, there could not be a more 
faithful or valuable man. He was gentle and very 
clever in his management of horses, and could doc- 
tor them almost as well as a farrier, for he had 
lived two years with a veterinary surgeon. He was 
a first-rate driver. He could take a four-in-hand, 
or a tandem, as easily as a pair. He was a hand- 
some man, a good scholar, and had very pleasant 
manners. I believe everybody liked him ; certainly 
the horses did ; the only wonder was that he should 
be in an under situation, and not in the place of a 
head coachman like York. But he had one great 
fault, and that was the love of drink. He was not 
173 


BLACK BEAUTY 


like some men, always at it ; he used to keep steady 
for weeks or months together, and then he would 
break out and have a “bout” of it, as York called 
it, and be a disgrace to himself, a terror to his 
wife, and a nuisance to all that had to do with him. 
He was, however, so useful that two or three times 
York had hushed the matter up, and kept it from 
the Earl’s knowledge; but one night, when Reuben 
had to drive a party home from a ball, he was so 
drunk that he could not hold the reins, and a gen- 
tleman of the party had to mount the box and drive 
the ladies home. Of course, this could not be hid- 
den, and Reuben was at once dismissed. His poor 
wife and little children had to turn out of the pretty 
cottage by the Park gate and go where they could. 
Old Max told me all this, for it happened a good 
while ago; but shortly before Ginger and I came, 
Smith had been taken back again. York had inter- 
ceded for him with the Earl, who is very kind- 
hearted, and the man had promised faithfully that 
he would never taste another drop as long as he 
lived there. He had kept his promise so well that 
174 


BLACK BEAUTY 


York thought he might be safely trusted to fill his 
place while he was away, and he was so clever and 
honest that no one else seemed so well fitted for it. 

It was now early in April, and the family was ex- 
pected home some time in May. The light brough- 
am was obliged to be freshly done up, and as 
Colonel Blantyre was obliged to return to his regi- 
ment, it was arranged that Smith should drive him 
to the town in it, and ride back. For this purpose 
he took the saddle with him, and I was chosen for 
the journey. At the station the Colonel put some 
money into Smith’s hand and bade him good-by, 
saying, “Take care of your young mistress, Reu- 
ben, and don’t let Black Auster be hacked about by 
any random young prig that wants to ride him — 
keep him for the lady.” 

We left the carriage at the maker’s, and Smith 
rode me to the White Lion and ordered the ostler 
to feed me well and have me ready for him at four 
o’clock. A nail in one of my front shoes had started 
as I came along, but the ostler did not notice it 
till just about four o’clock. Smith did not come 
175 


BLACK BEAUTY 


into the yard till five, and then he said he should 
not leave till six, as he had met with some old 
friends. The man then told him of the nail, and 
asked if he should have the shoe looked to. 

“No,” said Smith, “that will be all right till we 
get home.” 

He spoke in a very loud, off-hand way, and I 
thought it very unlike him not to see about the 
shoe, as he was generally wonderfully particular 
about loose nails in our shoes. He did not come at 
six, nor seven, nor eight, and it was nearly nine 
o’clock before he called for me, and then it was with 
a loud, rough voice. He seemed in a very bad 
temper, and abused the ostler, though I could not 
tell what for. 

The landlord stood at the door and said, “Have a 
care, Mr. Smith!” but he answered angrily with an 
oath; and almost before he was out of the town he 
began to gallop, frequently giving me a sharp cut 
with his whip, though I was going at full speed. 
The moon had not yet risen, and it was very dark. 
The roads were stony, having been recently 
176 


BLACK BEAUTY 


mended. Going over them at this pace, my shoe 
became looser, and when we were near the turnpike 
gate it came off. 

If Smith had been in his right senses, he would 
have been sensible of something wrong in my 
pace; but he was too madly drunk to notice any- 
thing. 

Beyond the turnpike was a long piece of road 
upon which fresh stones had just been laid; large, 
sharp stones, over which no horse could be driven 
quickly without risk of danger. Over this road, with 
one shoe gone, I was forced to gallop at my utmost 
speed, my rider meanwhile cutting into me with his 
whip and, with wild curses, urging me to go still 
faster. Of course, my shoeless foot suffered dread- 
fully; the hoof was broken and split down to the 
very quick, and the inside was terribly cut by the 
sharpness of the stones. 

This could not go on; no horse could keep his 
footing under such circumstances, the pain was too 
great. I stumbled and fell with violence on both 
my knees. Smith was flung off by my fall, and 
177 


BLACK BEAUTY 


owing to the speed I was going at, he must have 
fallen with great force. I soon recovered my feet 
and limped to the side of the road, where it was 
free from stones. The moon had just risen above 
the hedge, and by its light I could see Smith lying 
a few yards beyond me. He did not rise ; he made 
one slight effort to do so, and then there was a 
heavy groan. I could have groaned, too, for I was 
suffering intense pain both from my foot and 
knees; but horses are used to bear their pain in 
silence. I uttered no sound, but I stood there and 
listened. One more heavy groan from Smith, but 
though he now lay in the full moonlight I could 
see no motion. I could do nothing for him nor my- 
self, but, oh ! how I listened for the sound of horse, 
or wheels, or footsteps. The road was not much 
frequented, and at this time of the night we might 
stay for hours before help came to us. I stood 
watching and listening. It was a calm, sweet April 
night ; there were no sounds but a few low notes of 
a nightingale, and nothing moved but the white 
clouds near the moon, and a brown owl that flitted 
178 


BLACK BEAUTY 


over the hedge. It made me think of the summer 
nights long ago, when I used to lie beside my 
mother in the green, pleasant meadow at Farmer 
Grey’s. 


179 


CHAPTER XXVI 


HOW IT ENDED 

I T MUST have been nearly midnight, when I 
heard at a great distance the sound of a 
horse’s feet. Sometimes the sound died 
away, then it grew clearer again and nearer. The 
road to Earlshall led through plantations that be- 
longed to the Earl. The sound came in that direc- 
tion, and I hoped it might be some one coming in 
search of us. As the sound came nearer and nearer, 
I was almost sure I could distinguish Ginger’s 
step; a little nearer still, and I could tell she was 

in the dog-cart. I neighed loudly, and was over- 
joyed to hear an answering neigh from Ginger, 

and men’s voices. They came slowly over the 
stones, and stopped at the dark figure that lay 
upon the ground. 

One of the men jumped out, and stooped down 
180 


BLACK BEAUTY 


over it. “It is Reuben !” he said, “and he does not 
stir.” 

The other man followed and bent over him. 

“He’s dead,” he said; “feel how cold his hands 

___ ” 

are. 

They raised him up, but there was no life, and 
his hair was soaked with blood. They laid him 
down again, and came and looked at me. They 
soon saw my cut knees. 

“Why, the horse has been down and thrown him! 
Who would have thought the black horse would 
have done that? Nobody thought he could fall. 
Reuben must have been lying here for hours! Odd, 
too, that the horse has not moved from the place.” 

Robert then attempted to lead me forward. I 
made a step, but almost fell again. 

“Hallo! he’s bad in his foot as well as his knees; 
look here — his hoof is cut all to pieces, he might 
well come down, poor fellow! I tell you what, Ned, 
I’m afraid it hasn’t been all right with Reuben ! J ust 
think of him riding a horse over these stones with- 
out a shoe! Why, if he had been in his right senses 
181 


BLACK BEAUTY 


he would just as soon have tried to ride him over 
the moon. I’m afraid it has been the old thing 
over again. Poor Susan! she looked awfully pale 
when she came to my house to ask if he had not 
come home. She made believe she was not a bit 
anxious, and talked of a lot of things that might 
have kept him. But for all that, she begged me 
to go and meet him — but what must we do? 
There’s the horse to get home as well as the body — 
and that will be no easy matter.” 

Then followed a conversation between them, till 
it was agreed that Robert, as the groom, should 
lead me, and that Ned must take the body. It was 
a hard job to get it into the dog-cart, for there was 
no one to hold Ginger; but she knew as well as 
I did what was going on, and stood as still as a 
stone. I noticed that, because, if she had a fault, 
it was that she was impatient in standing. 

Ned started off very slowly with his sad load, 
and Robert came and looked at my foot again; then 
he took his handkerchief and bound it closely 
round, and so he led me home. I shall never forget 
182 


BLACK BEAUTY 


that night walk; it was more than three miles. 
Robert led me on very slowly, and I limped and 
hobbled on as well as I could with great pain. I 
am sure he was sorry for me, for he often patted 
and encouraged me, talking to me in a pleasant 
voice. 

At last I reached my own box, and had some 
corn, and after Robert had wrapped up my knees 
in wet cloths, he tied up my foot in a bran poultice 
to draw out the heat and cleanse it before the horse 
doctor saw it in the morning, and I managed to get 
myself down on the straw, and slept in spite of the 
pain. 

The next day, after the farrier had examined my 
wounds, he said he hoped the joint was not injured, 
and if so, I should not be spoiled for work, but I 
should never lose the blemish. I believe they did 
the best to make a good cure, but it was a long and 
painful one ; proud flesh, as they called it, came up 
in my knees, and was burned out with caustic, and 
when at last it was healed they put a blistering 
fluid over the front of both knees to bring all the 
183 


BLACK BEAUTY 


hair off. They had some reason for this, and I 
suppose it was all right. 

As Smith’s death had been so sudden, and no 
one was there to see it, there was an inquest held. 
The landlord and ostler at the White Lion, with 
several other people, gave evidence that he was 
intoxicated when he started from the inn. The 
keeper of the toll-gate said he rode at a hard gal- 
lop through the gate ; and my shoe was picked up 
among the stones, so that the case was quite plain 
to them, and I was cleared of all blame. 

Everybody pitied Susan; she was nearly out of 
her mind. She kept saying over and over again, 
“Oh! he was so good — so good! it was all that 
cursed drink; why will they sell that cursed drink? 
Oh, Reuben, Reuben!” So she went on till after 
he was buried ; and then, as she had no home or rela- 
tions, she, with her six little children, was obliged 
once more to leave the pleasant home by the tall 
oak trees and go into that great, gloomy Union 
House. 


184 






“With a joyful whinny I trotted up to her.” 



CHAPTER XXVII 


RUINED j AND GOING DOWNHILL 

A S SOON as my knees were sufficiently 
healed, I was turned into a small meadow 
for a month or two. No other creature 
was there, and although I enjoyed the liberty and 
the sweet grass, yet I had been so long used to soci- 
ety that I felt very lonely. . Ginger and I had be- 
come fast friends, and now I missed her company 
extremely. I often neighed when I heard horses* 
feet passing in the road, but I seldom got an an- 
swer, till one morning the gate was opened, and 
who should come in but dear old Ginger. The man 
slipped off her halter and left her there. With a 
joyful whinny, I trotted up to her. We were both 
glad to meet, but I soon found that it was not for 
our pleasure that she was brought to be with me. 
Her story would be too long to tell, but the end 
185 


BLACK BEAUTY 


of it was that she had been ruined by hard riding, 
and was now turned off to see what rest would do. 

Lord George was young, and would take no 
warning. He was a hard rider, and would hunt 
whenever he could get the chance, quite careless of 
his horse. Soon after I left the stable there was a 
steeplechase; and he determined to ride. Though 
the groom told him she was a little strained, and 
was not fit for the race, he did not believe it, and 
on the day of the race urged Ginger to keep up 
with the foremost riders. With her high spirit, she 
strained herself to the utmost. She came in with 
the first three horses, but her wind was touched, 
beside which, he was too heavy for her, and her 
back was strained. “And so,” she said, “here we 
are — ruined in the prime of our youth and strength 
— you by a drunkard and I by a fool. It is very 
hard.” We both felt in ourselves that we were not 

i 

what we had been. However, that did not spoil 
the pleasure we had in each other’s company. We 
did not gallop about as we once did, but we used 
to feed, and lie down together, and stand for hours 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


under one of the shady lime trees with our heads 
close to each other; and so we passed our time till 
the family returned from town. 

One day we saw the Earl come into the meadow, 
and York was with him. Seeing who it was, we 
stood still under our lime tree, and let them come 
up to us. They examined us carefully. The Earl 
seemed much annoyed. 

“There is three hundred pounds flung away for 
no earthly use,” said he; “but what I care most for 
is that these horses of my old friend, who thought 
they would find a good home with me, are ruined. 
The mare shall have a twelvemonth’s run, and we 
shall see what that will do for her; but the black 
one — he must be sold. ’Tis a great pity, but I could 
not have knees like these in my stables.” 

“No, my lord, of course not,” said York, “but he 
might get a place where appearance is not of much 
consequence, and still be well treated. I know a 
man in Bath, the master of some livery stables, who 
often wants a good horse at a low figure. I know 
he looks well after his horses. The inquest cleared 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


the horse’s character, and your lordship’s recom- 
mendation, or mine, would be sufficient warrant 
for him.” 

“You had better write to him, York. I should 
be more particular about the place than the money 
he would fetch.” 

After this they left us. 

“They’ll soon take you away,” said Ginger, “and 
I shall lose the only friend I have, and most likely 
we sha'n never see each other again. ’Tis a hard 
world!” 

About a week after this, Robert came into the 
field with a halter, which he slipped over my head, 
and led me away. There was no leave-taking of 
Ginger. We neighed to each other as I was led 
off, and she trotted anxiously along by the hedge, 
calling to me as long as she could hear the sound of 
my feet. 

Through the recommendation of York, I was 
bought by the master of the livery stables. I had 
to go by train, which was new to me, and required 
a good deal of courage the first time; but as I 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


found the puffing, rushing, whistling, and more 
than all, the trembling of the horse-box in which I 
stood did me no real harm, I soon took it quietly. 

When I reached the end of my journey, I found 
myself in a tolerably comfortable stable, and well 
attended to. These stables were not so airy and 
pleasant as those I had been used to. The stalls 
were laid on a slope instead of being level, and as 
my head was kept tied to the manger, I was obliged 
always to stand on the slope, which was very fa- 
tiguing. Men do not seem to know yet that horses 
can do more work if they can stand comfortably 
and can turn about. However, I was well fed and 
well cleaned, and, on the whole, I think our master 
took as much care of us as he could. Pie kept a 
good many horses and carriages of different kinds 
for hire. Sometimes his own men drove them; at 
others, the horse and chaise were let to gentlemen 
or ladies who drove themselves. 


189 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


A JOB HORSE AND HIS DRIVERS 

H ITHERTO I had always been driven by 
people who at least knew how to drive ; but 
in this place I was to get my experi- 
ence of all the different kinds of bad and ignorant 
driving to which we horses are subjected; for I was 
a “job horse,” and was let out to all sorts of peo- 
ple who wished to hire me ; and as I was good-tem- 
pered and gentle, I think I was oftener let out to 
the ignorant drivers than some of the other horses, 
because I could be depended upon. It would take 
a long time to tell of all the different styles in 
which I was driven, but I will mention a few of 
them. 

First, there were the tight-rein drivers — men who 
seemed to think that all depended on holding the 
reins as hard as they could, never relaxing the pull 
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on the horse’s mouth, or giving him the least liberty 
of movement. They are always talking about 
“keeping the horse well in hand” and “holding a 
horse up,” just as if a horse was not made to hold 
himself up. 

Some poor, broken-down horses, whose mouths 
have been made hard and insensible by just such 
drivers as these, may, perhaps, find some support 
in it ; but for a horse who can depend upon its own 
legs, and who has a tender mouth, and is easily 
guided, it is not only tormenting, but it is stupid. 

Then there are the loose-rein drivers, who let the 
reins lie easily on our backs, and their own hand rest 
lazily on their knees. Of course, such gentlemen 
have no control over a horse, if anything happens 
suddenly. If a horse shies, or starts, or stumbles, 
they are nowhere, and cannot help the horse or 
themselves till the mischief is done. Of course, for 
myself, I had no objection to it, as I was not in 
the habit either of starting or stumbling, and had 
only been used to depend on my driver for guid- 
ance and encouragement. Still, one likes to feel the 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


rein a little in going downhill and likes to know 
that one’s driver has not gone to sleep. 

Besides, a slovenly way of driving gets a horse 
into bad, and often lazy, habits; and when he 
changes hands he has to be whipped out of them 
with more or less pain and trouble. Squire Gor- 
don always kept us to our best paces and our best 
manners. He said that spoiling a horse, and let- 
ting him get into bad habits, was just as cruel as 
spoiling a child, and both had to suffer for it after- 
wards. 

Besides, these drivers are often careless alto- 
gether, and will attend to anything else rather than 
their horses. I went out in the phaeton one day 
with one of them; he had a lady and two children 
behind. He flopped the reins about as we started, 
and, of course, gave me several unmeaning cuts 
with the whip, though I was fairly off. There had 
been a good deal of road-mending going on, and 
even where the stones were not freshly laid down 
there were a great many loose ones about. My 
driver was laughing and joking with the lady and 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


the children, and talking about the country to the 
right and the left; but he never thought it worth 
while to keep an eye on his horse, or to drive on the 
smoothest parts of the road; and so it easily hap- 
pened that I got a stone in one of my fore feet. 

Now, if Mr. Gordon, or John, or, in fact, any 
good driver had been there, he would have seen 
that something was wrong before I had gone three 
paces. Or even if it had been dark, a practiced 
hand would have felt by the rein that there was 
something wrong in the step, and they would have 
got down and picked out the stone. But this man 
went on laughing and talking, while at every step 
the stone became more firmly wedged between my 
shoe and the frog of my foot. The stone was sharp 
on the inside and round on the outside, which, as 
every one knows, is the most dangerous kind that 
a horse can pick up, at the same time cutting his 
foot and making him most liable to stumble and 
fall. 

Whether the man was partly blind, or only very 
careless, I can’t say; but he drove me with that 
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BLACK BEAUTY 

stone in my foot for a good half mile before he 
saw anything. By that time I was going so lame 
with the pain that at last he saw it and called out, 
“Well, here’s a go! Why, they have sent us out 
with a lame horse! What a shame!” 

He then chucked the reins and flipped about with 
the whip, saying, “Now then, it’s no use playing 
the old soldier with me. There’s the journey to 
go, and it’s no use turning lame and lazy.” 

Just at this time a farmer came riding up on a 
brown cob. He lifted his hat and pulled up. 

“I beg your pardon, sir,” he said, “but I think 
there is something the matter with your horse, he 
goes very much as if he had a stone in his shoe. 
If you will allow me, I will look at his feet. These 
loose, scattered stones are confounded dangerous 
things for the horses.” 

“He’s a hired horse,” said my driver. “I don’t 
know what’s the matter with him, but it’s a great 
shame to send out a lame beast like this.” 

The farmer dismounted, and slipping his rein 
over his arm, at once took up my near foot. 

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BLACK BEAUTY 


“Bless me, there’s a stone! Lame! I should think 
so!” 

At first he tried to dislodge it with his hand, but 
as it was now very tightly wedged, he drew a 
stone-pick out of his pocket, and very carefully, 
and with some trouble, got it out. Then holding 
it up, he said, “There, that’s the stone your horse 
had picked up ; it is a wonder he did not fall down 
and break his knees into the bargain!” 

“Well, to be sure!” said my driver, “that is a 
queer thing! I never knew that horses picked up 
stones before.” 

“Didn’t you?” said the farmer, rather contempt- 
uously; “but they do, though, and the best of 
them will do it, and can’t help it sometimes on such 
roads as these. And if you don’t want to lame your 
horse, you must look sharp and get them out 
quickly. This foot is very much bruised,” he said, 
setting it gently down and patting me. “If I 
might advise, sir, you had better drive him gently 
for a while; the foot is a good deal hurt and the 
lameness will not go off directly.” 

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BLACK BEAUTY 


Then mounting his cob and raising his hat to the 
lady, he trotted off. 

When he was gone, my driver began to flop the 
reins about, and whip the harness, by which I un- 
derstood that I was to go on, which, of course, I 
did, glad that the stone was gone, but still in a good 
deal of pain. 

This was the sort of experience we job horses 
often came in for. 


196 


CHAPTER XXIX 


COCKNEYS 

T HEN there is the steam-engine style of 
driving; these drivers were mostly peo- 
ple from towns, who never had a horse of 
their own, and generally traveled by rail. 

They always seemed to think that a horse was 
something like a steam engine, only smaller. At 
any rate, they think that if only they pay for it, 
a horse is bound to go just as far, and just as fast, 
and with just as heavy a load as they please. And 
be the roads heavy and muddy, or dry and good ; 
be they stony or smooth, uphill or downhill, it is 
all the same — on, on, or, one must go at the same 
pace, with no relief, and no consideration. 

These people never think of getting out to walk 
up a steep hill. Oh, no, they have paid to ride, and 
ride they will! The horse? Oh, he’s used to it! 
What were horses made for if not to drag people 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


uphill? Walk! A good joke, indeed! And so the 
whip is plied and the rein is chucked, and often a 
rough, scolding voice cries out, “Go along, you lazy 
beast !” And then another slash of the whip, when 
all the time we are doing our very best to get along, 
uncomplaining and obedient, though often sorely 
harassed and downhearted. 

This steam-engine style of driving wears us up 
faster than any other kind. I would far rather go 
twenty miles with a good, considerate driver than 
I would go ten with some of these. It would take 
less out of me. 

Another thing — they scarcely ever put on the 
drag, however steep the down-hill may be, and thus 
bad accidents sometimes happen; or, if they do put 
it on, they often forget to take it off at the bottom 
of the hill ; and more than once I have had to pull 
half-way up the next hill, with one of the wheels 
lodged fast in the drag-shoe, before my driver 
chose to think about it; and that is a terrible strain 
on a horse. 

Then these Cockneys, instead of starting at an 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


easy pace, as a gentleman would do, generally set 
off at full speed from the very stable yard; and 
when they want to stop, they first whip us and then 
pull up so suddenly that we are nearly thrown on 
our haunches, and our mouths jagged with the bit. 
They call that pulling up with a dash! and when 
they turn a corner, they do it as sharply as if there 
were no right side or wrong side of the road. 

I well remember one spring evening I and Rory 
had been out for the day. (Rory was the horse 
that mostly went with me when a pair was ordered, 
and a good, honest fellow he was.) We had our 
own driver and as he was always considerate and 
gentle with us, we had a very pleasant day. We 
were coming home at a good, smart pace about 
twilight ; our road turned sharp to the left ; but as 
we were close to the hedge on our own side, and 
there was plenty of room to pass, our driver did not 
pull us in. As we neared the corner, I heard a 
horse and two wheels coming rapidly down the hill 
towards us. The hedge was high, and I could see 
nothing, but the next moment we were upon each 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


other. Happily for me, I was on the side next the 
hedge. Rory was on the right side of the pole, and 
had not even a shaft to protect him. The man who 
was driving was making straight for the corner, 
and when he came in sight of us he had no time 
to pull over to his own side. The whole shock came 
upon Rory. The gig shaft ran right into the 
chest, making him stagger back with a cry that I 
shall never forget. The other horse was thrown 
upon his haunches, and one shaft broken. It turned 
out that it was a horse from our own stables, with 
the high-wheeled gig that the young men were so 
fond of. 

The driver was one of those random, ignorant 
fellows who don’t even know which is their own side 
of the road, or if they know, don’t care. And there 
was poor Rory, with his flesh torn open and bleed- 
ing, and the blood streaming down. They said if it 
had been a little more to one side, it would have 
killed him; and a good thing for him, poor fellow, 
if it had. 

As it was, it was a long time before the wound 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


healed, and then he was sold for coal carting; and 
what that is, up and down those steep hills, only 
horses know. Some of the sights I saw there, where 
a horse had to come downhill with a heavily loaded 
two-wheel cart behind him, on which no drag 
could be placed, make me very sad even now to 
think of. 

After Rory was disabled, I often went in the 
carriage with a mare named Peggy, who stood in 
the next stall to mine. She was a strong, well-made 
animal, of a bright dun color, beautifully dappled, 
and with a dark brown mane and tail. There was 
no high breeding about her, but she was very pretty 
and remarkably sweet-tempered and willing. Still, 
there was an anxious look about her eye, by which 
I knew that she had some trouble. The first time 
we went out together I thought she had a very odd 
pace. She seemed to go partly in a trot, partly in 
a canter — three or four paces, and then to make a 
little jump forward. 

It was very unpleasant for any horse who pulled 
with her, and made me quite fidgety. When we 

201 


BLACK BEAUTY 


got home, I asked her what made her go in that 
odd, awkward way. 

“Ah,” she said, in a troubled manner, “I know 
my paces are very bad, but what can I do? It 
really is not my fault; it is just because my legs 
are so short, I stand nearly as high as you, but 
your legs are a good three inches longer above your 
knees than mine, and, of course, you can take a 
much longer step, and go much faster. You see, 
I did not make mj^self ; I wish I could have done 
so ; I would have had long legs then. All my trou- 
bles come from short legs,” said Peggy, in a de- 
sponding tone. 

“But how is it,” I said, “when you are so strong 
and good-tempered and willing?” 

“Why, you see,” said she, “men will go so fast, 
and if one can’t keep up to other horses, it is noth- 
ing but whip, whip, whip, all the time. And so I 
have had to keep up as I could, and have got into 
this ugly, shuffling pace. It was not always so; 
when I lived with my first master, I always went 
a good, regular trot, but then, he was not in such a 
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BLACK BE AUTY 


hurry. He was a young clergyman in the country, 
and a good, kind master he was. He had two 
churches a good way apart, and a great deal of 
work, but he never scolded or whipped me for not 
going faster. He was very fond of me. I only 
wish I was with him now; but he had to leave 
and go to a large town, and then I was sold to a 
farmer. 

“Some farmers, you know, are capital masters; 
but I think this one was a low sort of man. He 
cared nothing about good horses, or good driving; 
he only cared for going fast. I went as fast as I 
could, but that would not do, and he was always 
whipping ; so I got into this way of making a spring 
forward to keep up. On market nights he used to 
stay very late at the inn, and then drive home at a 
gallop. 

“One dark night he was galloping home as usual, 
when all on a sudden the wheel came against some 
great, heavy thing in the road, and turned the gig 
over in a minute. He was thrown out and his arm 
broken, and some of his ribs, I think. At any rate, 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


it was the end of my living with him, and I was not 
sorry. But, you see, it will be the same everywhere 
for me, if men must go so fast. I wish my legs 
were longer !” 

Poor Peggy! I was very sorry for her, and I 
could not comfort her, for I knew how hard it was 
upon slow-paced horses to be put with fast ones. 
All the whipping comes to their share, and they 
can’t help it. 

She was often used in the phaeton, and was very 
much liked by some of the ladies, because she was 
so gentle; and some time after this she was sold to 
two ladies who drove themselves, and wanted a safe, 
good horse. 

I met her several times out in the country, going 
a good, steady pace, and looking as gay and con- 
tented as a horse could be. I was very glad to see 
her, for she deserved a good place. 

After she left us, another horse came in her 
stead. He was young, and had a bad name for shy- 
ing and starting, by which he had lost a good place. 
I asked him what made him shy. 

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BLACK BEAUTY 


“Well, I hardly know,” he said. “I was timid 
when I was young, and was a good deal frightened 
several times, and if I saw anything strange, I used 
to turn and look at it — you see, with our blinkers 
one can’t see or understand what a thing is unless 
one looks round ; and then my master always gave 
me a whipping, which, of course, made me start 
on, and did not make me less afraid. I think if he 
would have let me just look at things quietly, and 
see that there was nothing to hurt me, it would have 
been all right, and I should have got used to them. 
One day an old gentleman was riding with him, and 
a large piece of white paper or rag blew across just 
on one side of me. I shied and started forward — 
my master, as usual, whipped me smartly, but the 
old man cried out, ‘You’re wrong! you’re wrong! 
you should never whip a horse for shying; he shies 
because he is frightened, and you only frighten him 
more, and make the habit worse.’ So I suppose all 
men don’t do so. I am sure I don’t want to shy 
for the sake of it; but how should one know what is 
dangerous and what is not, if one is never allowed 
205 


BLACK BEAUTY 


to get used to anything? I am never afraid of what 
I know. Now, I was brought up in a park where 
there were deer. Of course, I knew them as well as 
I did a sheep or a cow, but they are not common, 
and I know many sensible horses who are fright- 
ened at them, and who kick up quite a shindy be- 
fore they will pass a paddock where there are 
deer.” 

I knew what my companion said was true, and I 
wished that every young horse had as good masters 
as Farmer Grey and Squire Gordon. 

Of course, we sometimes came in for good driv- 
ing here. I remember one morning I was put into 
the light gig, and taken to a house in Pulteney 
street. Two gentlemen came out; the taller of 
them came round to my head. He looked at the bit 
and bridle, and just shifted the collar with his hand 
to see if it fitted comfortably. 

“Do you consider this horse wants a curb?” he 
said to the ostler. 

“Well,” said the man, “I should say he would 
go just as well without; he has an uncommon good 
206 


BLACK BEAUTY 


mouth, and though he has a fine spirit, he has no 
vice; but we generally find people like the curb.” 

“I don’t like it,” said the gentleman. “Be so 
good as to take it off, and put the rein in at the 
cheek; an easy mouth is a great thing on a long 
journey, is it not, old fellow?” he said, patting my 
neck. 

Then he took the reins, and they both got up. I 
can remember now how quietly he turned me round, 
and then, with a light feel of the rein, and drawing 
the whip gently across my back, we were off. 

I arched my neck and set off at my best pace. I 
found I had some one behind me who knew how a 
good horse ought to be driven. It seemed like old 
times again, and made me feel quite gay. 

This gentleman took a great liking to me, and 
after trying me several times with the saddle, he 
prevailed upon my master to sell me to a friend of 
his, who wanted a safe, pleasant horse for riding. 
And so it came to pass that in the summer I was 
sold to Mr. Barry. 


207 


CHAPTER XXX 


A THIEF 

M Y NEW master was an unmarried man. 

He lived at Bath, and was much en- 
gaged in business. His doctor advised 
him to take horse exercise, and for this purpose he 
bought me. He hired a stable a short distance from 
his lodgings, and engaged a man named Filcher as 
groom. My master knew very little about horses, 
but he treated me well, and I should have had a 
good and easy place but for circumstances of which 
he was ignorant. He ordered the best hay, with 
plenty of oats, crushed beans, and bran, with 
vetches, or rye grass, as the man might think need- 
ful. I heard the master give the order, so I knew 
there was plenty of good food, and I thought I was 
well off. 

For a few days all went on well; I found that my 
208 


BLACK BEAUTY 


groom understood his business. He kept the sta- 
ble clean and airy, and he groomed me thoroughly ; 
and was never otherwise than gentle. He had 
been an ostler in one of the great hotels in Bath. 
He had given that up, and now cultivated fruit and 
vegetables for the market, and his wife bred and 
fattened poultry and rabbits for sale. After a 
while it seemed to me that my oats came very short. 
I had the beans, but bran was mixed with them in- 
stead of oats, of which there were very few — cer- 
tainly not more than a quarter of what there should 
have been. In two or three weeks this began to 
tell upon my strength and spirits. The grass food, 
though very good, was not the thing to keep up my 
condition without corn. However, I could not 
complain, nor make known my wants. So it went 
on for about two months, and I wondered my mas- 
ter did not see that something was the matter. 
However, one afternoon he rode out into the coun- 
try to see a friend of his — a gentleman farmer, 
who lived on the road to Wells. This gentleman 
had a very quick eye for horses, and after he had 
209 


BLACK BEAUTY 


welcomed his friend, he said, casting his eye 
over me: 

“It seems to me, Barry, that your horse does not 
look so well as he did when you first had him. Has 
he been well?” 

“Yes, I believe so,” said my master, “but he is 
not nearly so lively as he was. My groom tells me 
that horses are always dull and weak in the au- 
tumn, and that I must expect it.” 

“Autumn! fiddlestick!” said the farmer. “Why, 
this is only August, and with your light work and 
good food he ought not to go down like this, even 
if it was autumn. How do you feed him?” 

My master told him. The other shook his head 
slowly, and began to feel me over. 

“I can’t say who eats your corn, my dear fellow, 
but I am much mistaken if your horse gets it. 
Have you ridden very fast?” 

“No! very gently.” 

“Then just put your hand here,” said he, pass- 
ing his hand over my neck and shoulder. “He is 
as warm and damp as a horse just come up from 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


grass. I advise you to look into your stable a little 
more. I hate to be suspicious, and, thank Heaven, 
I have no cause to be, for I can trust my men, pres- 
ent or absent; but there are mean scoundrels, 
wicked enough to rob a dumb beast of his food. 
You must look into it.” And turning to his man, 
who had come to take me, “Give this horse a 
right good feed of bruised oats, and don’t stint 
him.” 

“Dumb beasts!” yes, we are; but if I could have 
spoken, I could have told my master where his oats 
went to. My groom used to come every morning 
about six o’clock, and with him a little boy, who 
always had a covered basket with him. He used 
to go with his father into the harness room, where 
the corn was kept, and I could see them when the 
door stood ajar, fill a little bag with oats out of the 
bin, and then he used to be off. 

Five or six mornings after this, just as the boy 
had left the stable, the door was pushed open and a 
policeman walked in, holding the child tight by the 
Another policeman followed, and locked the 
211 


arm. 


BLACK BEAUTY 


door on the inside, saying, “Show me the place 
where your father keeps his rabbits’ food.” 

The boy looked very frightened, and began to 
cry; but there was no escape, and he led the way 
to the corn-bin. Here the policeman found another 
empty bag like that which was found full of oats in 
the boy’s basket. 

Filcher was cleaning my feet at the time, but 
they soon saw him, and though he blustered a good 
deal, they walked him off to the “lock-up,” and his 
boy with him. I heard afterwards that the boy was 
not held to be guilty, but the man was sentenced 
to prison for two months. 


212 


CHAPTER XXXI 


A HUMBUG 

M Y MASTER was not immediately suited, 
but in a few days my new groom came. 
He was a tall, good-looking fellow 
enough ; but if ever there was a humbug in the shape 
of a groom, Alfred Smirk was the man. He was 
very civil to me, and never used me ill; in fact, he 
did a great deal of stroking and patting, when his 
master was there to see it. He always brushed my 
mane and tail with water, and my hoofs with oil be- 
fore he brought me to the door, to make me look 
smart ; but as to cleaning my feet, or looking to my 
shoes, or grooming me thoroughly, he thought no 
more of that than if I had been a cow. He left my 
bit riisty, my saddle damp, and my crupper stiff. 

Alfred Smirk considered himself very handsome. 
He spent a great deal of time about his hair, whis- 
kers, and necktie, before a little looking-glass in 


213 


BLACK BEAUTY 


the harness room. When his master was speaking 
to him, it was always, “Yes, sir; yes, sir,” touching 
his hat at every word; and every one thought he 
was a very nice young man, and that Mr. Barry 
was very fortunate to meet with him. I should say 
he was the laziest, most conceited fellow I ever 
came near. Of course, it was a great thing not to 
be ill-used, but then a horse wants more than that. 
I had a loose box, and might have been very com- 
fortable if he had not been too indolent to clean it 
out. He never took all the straw away, and the 
smell from what lay underneath was very bad, 
while the strong vapors that rose up made my eyes 
smart and inflame, and I did not feel the same ap- 
petite for my food. 

One day his master came in and said, “Alfred, 
the stable smells rather strong. Should not you 
give that stall a good scrub, and throw down plenty 
of water?” 

“Well, sir,” he said, touching his cap, “I’ll do so 
if you please, sir, but it is rather dangerous, sir, 
throwing down water in a horse’s box. They are 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


very apt to take cold, sir. I should not like to do 
him an injury, but I’ll do it if you please, sir.” 

“Well,” said his master, “I should not like him 
to take cold, but I don’t like the smell of this stable. 
Do you think the drains are all right ?” 

“Well, sir, I think the drain does sometimes send 
back a smell. There may be something wrong, sir.” 

“Then send for the bricklayer and have it seen 
to,” said his master. 

“Yes, sir, I will.” 

The bricklayer came and pulled up a great many 
bricks, and found nothing amiss; so he put down 
some lime and charged the master five shillings, 
and the smell in my box was as bad as ever; but 
that was not all — standing as I did on a quantity of 
moist straw, my feet grew unhealthy and tender, 
and the master used to say: 

“I don’t know what is the matter with this horse; 
he goes very fumble-footed. I am sometimes afraid 
he will stumble.” 

“Yes, sir,” said Alfred. “I have noticed the same 
myself, when I have exercised him.” 

215 


BLACK BEAUTY 


Now, the fact was, that he hardly ever did exer- 
cise me, and when the master was busy I often stood 
for days together without stretching my legs at all, 
and yet being fed just as high as if I were at hard 
work. This often disordered my health, and made 
me sometimes heavy and dull, but more often rest- 
less and feverish. He never even gave me a meal 
of green meat, or a bran mash, which would have 
cooled me, for he was altogether as ignorant as he 
was conceited; and then, instead of exercise or 
change of food, I had to take horse-balls and 
draughts, which, beside the nuisance of having them 
poured down my throat, used to make me feel ill 
and uncomfortable. 

One day my feet were so tender that trotting 
over some fresh stones with my master on my back, 
I made two such serious stumbles that, as he came 
down Lansdown into the city, he stopped at the 
farrier’s, and asked him to see what was the matter 
with me. The man took up my feet one by one 
and examined them; then standing up and dusting 
his hands one against the other, he said: 


216 



“The man took up my feet one by one 












BLACK BEAUTY 


“Your horse has got the ‘thrush,’ and badly, too. 
His feet are very tender. It is fortunate that he 
has not been down. I wonder your groom has not 
seen to it before. This is the sort of thing we find 
in foul stables, where the litter is never properly 
cleared out. If you will send him here to-morrow, 
I will attend to the hoof, and I will direct your 
man how to apply the liniment which I will give 
him.” 

The next day I had my feet thoroughly cleansed 
and stuffed with tow, soaked in some strong lotion, 
and a very unpleasant business it was. 

The farrier ordered all the litter to be taken out 
of my box day by day, and the floor kept very 
clean. Then I was to have bran mashes, a little 
green meat, and not so much corn, till my feet were 
well again. With this treatment, I soon regained 
my spirits, but Mr. Barry was so much disgusted at 
being twice deceived by his grooms that he deter- 
mined to give up keeping a horse, and to hire when 
he wanted one. I was therefore kept till my feet 
were quite sound, and was then sold again. 

219 


PART III 


CHAPTER XXXII 

A HORSE FAIR 

N O DOUBT, a horse fair is a very amusing 
place to those who have nothing to lose. 
At any rate, there is plenty to see. 

Long strings of young horses out of the country, 
fresh from the marshes, and droves of shaggy little 
Welsh ponies, no higher than Merrylegs, and hun- 
dreds of cart horses of all sorts, some of them 
with their long tails braided up and tied with scarlet 
cord, and a good many like myself, handsome and 
high-bred, but fallen into the middle class, through 
some accident or blemish, unsoundness of wind, or 
some other complaint. There were some splendid 
animals quite in their prime and fit for anything; 
they were throwing out their legs and showing off 
their paces in high style, as they were trotted out 
220 


BLACK BEAUTY 


with a leading rein, the groom running by the side. 
But round in the background there were a num- 
ber of poor things, sadly broken down with hard 
work, with their knees knuckling over, and their 
hind legs swinging out at every step; and there 
were some very dejected-looking old horses, with 
the under lip hanging down, and the ears laying 
back heavily, as if there was no more pleasure in life 
and no more hope. There were some so thin that 
you might see all their ribs, and some with old sores 
on their backs and hips; these were sad sights for 
a horse to look upon, who knows not but he may 
come to the same state. 

There was a great deal of bargaining, of run- 
ning up and beating down, and if a horse may 
speak his mind so far as he understands, I should 
say there were more lies told, and more trickery at 
that horse fair, than a clever man could give an ac- 
count of. I was put with two or three other strong, 
useful-looking horses, and a good many people 
came to look at us. The gentlemen always turned 
from me when they saw my broken knees, though 
221 


BLACK BEAUTY 


the man who had me swore it was only a slip in 
the stall. 

The first thing was to pull my mouth open, then 
to look at my eyes, then feel all the way down my 
legs, and give me a hard feel of the skin and flesh, 
and then try my paces. It was wonderful what a 
difference there was in the way these things were 
done. Some did it in a rough, off-hand way, as 
if one was only a piece of wood, while others would 
take their hands gently over one’s body, with a pat 
now and then, as much as to say, “by your leave.” 
Of course, I judged a good deal of the buyers by 
their manners to myself. 

There was one man, I thought, if he would buy 
me, I should be happy. He was not a gentleman, 
nor yet one of the loud, flashy sort that called them- 
selves so. He was rather a small man, but well 
made and quick in all his motions. I knew in a 
moment by the way he handled me that he was used 
to horses. He spoke gently, and his gray eye had 
a kindly, cheery look in it. It may seem strange 
to say — but it is true all the same — that the clean, 
222 


BLACK BEAUTY 


fresh smell there was about him made me take to 
him. No smell of old beer and tobacco, which I 
hated, but a fresh smell as if he had come out of a 
hayloft. He offered twenty-three pounds for me; 
but that was refused, and he walked away. I 
looked after him, but he was gone, and a very hard- 
looking, loud-voiced man came. I was dreadfully 
afraid he would have me, but he walked off. One or 
two more came who did not mean business. Then 
the hard-faced man came back again and offered 
twenty-three pounds. A very close bargain was 
being driven, for my salesman began to think he 
should not get all he asked, and must come down; 
but just then the gray-eyed man came back again. 
I could not help reaching out my head towards 
him. He stroked my face kindly. 

“Well, old chap,” he said, “I think we should suit 
each other. I’ll give twenty-four for him.” 

“Say twenty-five and you shall have him.” 

“Twenty-four ten,” said my friend, in a very 
decided tone, “and not another sixpence — yes or 
no?” 


223 


BLACK BEAUTY 


“Done,” said the salesman, “and you may de- 
pend upon it, there’s a monstrous deal of quality in 
that horse, and if you want him for cab work he’s 
a bargain.” 

The money was paid on the spot, and my new 
master took my halter and led me out of the fair 
to an inn, where he had a saddle and bridle ready. 
He gave me a good feed of oats, and stood by while 
I ate it, talking to himself and talking to me. Half 
an hour after we were on our way to London, 
through pleasant lanes and country roads, until we 
came into the great London thoroughfare, on which 
we traveled steadily, till in the twilight we reached 
the great city. The gas lamps were already lighted. 
There were streets to the right, and streets to the 
left, and streets crossing each other for mile upon 
mile. I thought we should never come to the end 
of them. At last, in passing through one, we came 
to a long cab stand, when my rider called out in a 
cheery voice, “Good night, Governor!” 

“Halloo!” cried a voice. “Have you got a good 
one?” 


224 



“Yes, Dolly, 


as gentle as your own kitten 


n 









- 







































BLACK BEAUTY 


“I think so,” replied my owner. 

“I wish you luck with him.” 

“Thank ye, Governor,” and he rode on. We 
soon turned up one of the side streets, and about 
half way up that we turned into a very narrow 
street, with rather poor-looking houses on one side 
and what seemed to be coach-houses and stables on 
the other. 

My owner pulled up at one of the houses and 
whistled. The door flew open, and a young woman, 
followed by a little girl and boy, ran out. There 
was a very lively greeting as my rider dis- 
mounted. 

“Now, then, Harry, my boy, open the gates, and 
mother will bring us the lantern.” 

The next minute they were all standing round 
me in a small stable yard. 

“Is he gentle, father?” 

“Yes, Dolly, as gentle as your own kitten. Come 
and pat him.” 

At once the little hand was patting about all over 
my shoulder without fear. How good it felt! 


225 


BLACK BEAUTY 


“Let me get him a bran mash while you rub him 
down,” said the mother. 

“Do, Polly; it’s just what he wants, and I know 
you’ve got a beautiful mash ready for me.” 

“Sausage dumpling and apple turnover,” 
shouted the boy, which set them all laughing. I 
was led into a comfortable, clean-smelling stall, 
with plenty of dry straw, and after a capital supper 
I lay down, thinking I was going to be happy. 


226 


CHAPTER XXXIII 


A LONDON CAB HORSE 

M Y NEW master’s name was Jeremiah 
Barker, but as every one called him 
Jerry, I shall do the same. Polly, his 
wife, was just as good a match as a man could 
have. She was a plump, trim, tidy little woman, 
with smooth, dark hair, dark eyes, and a merry 
little mouth. The boy was nearly twelve years old, 
a tall, frank, good-tempered lad, and little Doro- 
thy (Dolly, they called her) was her mother all 
over again, at eight years old. They were all won- 
derfully fond of each other. I never knew such a 
happy, merry family, before or since. Jerry had a 
cab of his own and two horses, which he drove and 
attended to himself. His other horse was a tall, 
white, rather large-boned animal called Captain. 
He was old now, but when he was young he must 
have been splendid. He had still a proud way of 
227 


BLACK BEAUTY 


holding his head and arching his neck; in fact, he 
was a high-bred, fine-mannered, noble old horse, 
every inch of him. He told me that in his early 
youth he went to the Crimean War. He belonged 
to an officer in the cavalry and used to lead the regi- 
ment. I will tell more of that hereafter. 

The next morning, when I was well groomed, 
Polly and Dolly came into the yard to see me, and 
make friends. Harry had been helping his father 
since the early morning, and had stated his opin- 
ion that I should turn out “a regular brick.” Polly 
brought me a slice of apple, and Dolly a piece of 
bread, and made as much of me as if I had been the 
“Black Beauty” of olden time. It was a great 
treat to be petted again and talked to in a gentle 
voice, and I let them see as well as I could that I 
wished to be friendly. Polly thought I was very 
handsome, and a great deal too good for a cab, 
if it was not for the broken knees. 

“Of course, there’s no one to tell us whose fault 
that was,” said Jerry, “and as long as I don’t 
know, I shall give him the benefit of the doubt, for 


228 


BLACK BEAUTY 


a firmer, neater stepper I never rode. We’ll call 
him ‘Jack,’ after the old one — shall we, Polly?” 

“Do,” she said, “for I like to keep a good name 
going.” 

Captain went out in the cab all the morning. 
Harry came in after school to feed me and give me 
water. In the afternoon I was put into the cab. 
Jerry took as much pains to see if the collar and 
bridle fitted comfortably as if he had been John 
Manly over again. When the crupper was let out 
a hole or two, it all fitted well. There was no bear- 
ing rein — no curb — nothing but a plain ring snaf- 
fle. What a blessing that was! 

After driving through the side street, we came 
to the large cab stand where Jerry had said “Good 
night.” On one side of this wide street were high 
houses with wonderful shop fronts, and on the 
other was an old church and churchyard, sur- 
rounded by iron palisades. Alongside these iron 
rails a number of cabs were drawn up, waiting for 
passengers. Bits of hay were lying about on the 
ground. Some of the men were standing together 
229 


BLACK BEAUTY 


talking; some were sitting on their boxes reading 
the newspaper, and one or two were feeding their 
horses with bits of hay and a drink of water. We 
pulled up in the rank at the back of the last cab. 
Two or three men came round and began to look 
at me and pass their remarks. 

“Very good for a funeral,” said one. 

“Too smart looking,” said another, shaking his 
head in a very wise way. “You’ll find out some- 
thing wrong one of these fine mornings, or my 
name isn’t Jones.” 

“Well,” said Jerry pleasantly, “I suppose I need 
not find it out till it finds me out, eh? and if so, 
I’ll keep up my spirits a little longer.” 

Then came up a broad-faced man, dressed in a 
great, gray coat, with great, gray capes, and great, 
white buttons, a gray hat, and a blue comforter 
loosely tied round his neck. His hair was gray, 
too, but he was a jolly-looking fellow, and the other 
men made way for him. He looked me all over, as 
if he had been going to buy me; and then, straight- 
ening himself up with a grunt, he said, “He’s the 
230 


BLACK BEAUTY 


right sort for you, Jerry. I don’t care what you 
gave for him, he’ll be worth it.” Thus my charac- 
ter was established on the stand. 

This man’s name was Grant, but he was called 
“Gray Grant,” or “Governor Grant.” He had 
been the longest on that stand of any of the men, 
and he took it upon himself to settle matters and 
stop disputes. He was generally a good-humored, 
sensible man ; but if his temper was a little out, as 
it was sometimes, when he had drunk too much, no- 
body liked to come too near his fist, for he could 
deal a very heavy blow. 

The first week of my life as a cab horse was very 
trying. I had never been used to London, and the 
noise, the hurry, the crowds of horses, carts, and 
carriages that I had to make my way through made 
me feel anxious and harassed; but I soon found 
that I could perfectly trust my driver, and then I 
made myself easy, and got used to it. 

Jerry was as good a driver as I had ever known, 
and, what was better, he took as much thought for 
his horses as he did for himself. He soon found 
231 


BLACK BEAUTY 


out that I was willing to work and do my best, and 
he never laid the whip on me, unless it was gently 
drawing the end of it over my back, when I was to 
go on ; but generally I knew this quite well by the 
way in which he took up the reins ; and I believe his 
whip was more frequently stuck up by his side than 
in his hand. 

In a short time I and my master understood each 
other as well as horse and man can do. In the 
stable, too, he did all that he could for our com- 
fort. The stalls were the old-fashioned style, too 
much on the slope; but he had two movable bars 
fixed across the back of our stalls so that at night, 
and when we were resting, he just took off our 
halters, and put up the bars, and thus we could turn 
about and stand whichever way we pleased, which 
is a great comfort. 

Jerry kept us very clean, and gave us as much 
change of food as he could, and always plenty of it, 
and not only that, but he always gave us plenty of 
clean, fresh water, which he allowed to stand by 
us both night and day, except, of course, when we 
232 


BLACK BEAUTY 


came in warm. Some people say that a horse ought 
not to drink all he likes, but I know if we are al- 
lowed to drink when we want it, we drink only a 
little at a time, and it does us a great deal more 
good than swallowing down half a bucketful at 
a time, because we have been left without till we 
are thirsty and miserable. Some grooms will go 
home to their beer and leave us for hours with our 
dry hay and oats and nothing to moisten them. 
Then, of course, we gulp down too much at once, 
which helps to spoil our breathing and sometimes 
chills our stomachs. But the best tiling that we 
had here was our Sundays for rest. We worked 
so hard in the week that I do not think we could 
have kept up to it but for that day; besides, we 
had then time to enjoy each other’s company. It 
was on these days that I learned my companion’s 
history. 


233 


CHAPTER XXXIV 


AN OLD WAR HORSE 

C APTAIN had been broken in and trained 
for an army horse; his first owner was an 
officer of cavalry going out to the Cri- 
mean War. He said he quite enjoyed the training 
with all the other horses, trotting together, turning 
together, to the right hand or the left, halting at the 
word of command, or dashing forward at full speed 
at the sound of the trumpet, or signal of the officer. 
He was, when young, a dark, dappled iron gray, 
and considered very handsome. His master, a 
young, high-spirited gentleman, was very fond of 
him, and treated him from the first with the great- 
est care and kindness. He told me he thought the 
life of an army horse was very pleasant; but when 
it came to being sent abroad, over the sea in a great 
ship, he almost changed his mind. 


234 


BLACK BEAUTY 


“That part of it,” said he, “was dreadful! Of 
course we could not walk off the land into the ship ; 
so they were obliged to put strong straps under our 
bodies, and then we were lifted off our legs in spite 
of our struggles, and were swung through the air 
over the water, to the deck of the great vessel. 
There we were placed in small, close stalls, and 
never for a long time saw the sky, or were able to 
stretch our legs. The ship sometimes rolled about 
in high winds, and we were knocked about and felt 
bad enough. However, at last it came to an end, 
and we were hauled up and swung over again to the 
land. We w T ere very glad, and snorted and neighed 
for joy when we once more felt firm ground under 
our feet. 

“We soon found that the country we had come 
to was very different to our own, and that we had 
many hardships to endure besides the fighting, but 
many of the men were so fond of their horses that 
they did everything they could to make them com- 
fortable, in spite of snow, wet, and all things out 


of order.” 


235 


BLACK BEAUTY 


“But what about the fighting?” said I. “Was 
not that worse than anything else?” 

“Well,” said he, “I hardly know. We always 
liked to hear the trumpet sound, and to be called 
out, and were impatient to start off, though some- 
times we had to stand for hours, waiting for the 
word of command; and when the word was given 
we used to spring forward as gaily and eagerly as 
if there were no cannon balls, bayonets or bullets. 
I believe so long as we felt our rider firm in the 
saddle, and his hand steady on the bridle, not one 
of us gave way to fear, not even when the terrible 
bombshells whirled through the air and burst into 
a thousand pieces. 

“I, with my noble master, went into many actions 
together without a wound, and though I saw horses 
shot down with bullets, pierced through with lances, 
and gashed with fearful saber cuts; though we left 
them dead on the field, or dying in the agony of 
their wounds, I don’t think I feared for myself. 
My master’s cheery voice, as he encouraged his 
men, made me feel as if he and I could not be killed. 

236 


BLACK BEAUTY 


I had such perfect trust in him that, while he was 
guiding me, I was ready to charge up to the very 
cannon’s mouth. I saw many brave men cut down, 
many fall, mortally wounded, from their saddles. 
I had heard the cries and groans of the dying, I 
had cantered over the ground, slippery with blood, 
and frequently had to turn aside to avoid trampling 
on wounded man or horse, but, until one dread- 
ful day, I had never felt terror; that day I shall 
never forget.” 

Here old Captain paused for a while and drew a 
long breath. I waited, and he went on : 

“It was one autumn morning, and, as usual, an 
hour before daybreak our cavalry had turned out, 
ready caparisoned for the day’s work, whether it 
might be fighting or waiting. The men stood by 
their horses waiting, ready for orders. As the light 
increased, there seemed to be some excitement 
among the officers, and before the day was well be- 
gun, we heard the firing of the enemy’s guns. 

“Then one of the officers rode up and gave the 
word for the men to mount, and in a second every 
237 


BLACK BEAUTY 


man was in his saddle, and every horse stood ex- 
pecting the touch of the rein, or the pressure of his 
rider’s heels, all animated, all eager; but still we 
had been trained so well that, except by the champ- 
ing of our bits, and the restive tossing of our heads 
from time to time, it could not be said that we 
stirred. 

“My dear master and I were at the head of the 
line, and, as all sat motionless and watchful, he 
took a little stray lock of my mane, which had 
turned over on the wrong side, laid it over to the 
right, and smoothed it down with his hand; then, 
patting my neck, he said, ‘We shall have a day of it 
to-day, Bayard, my beauty; but we’ll do our duty 
as we have done.’ He stroked my neck that morn- 
ing more, I think, than he had ever done before; 
quietly on and on, as if he were thinking of some- 
thing else. I loved to feel his hand on my neck, and 
arched my crest proudly and happily, but I stood 
very still, for I knew all his moods, and when he 
liked me to he quiet, and when gay. 

“I cannot tell all that happened on that day, but 
238 


BLACK BEAUTY 


I will tell of the last charge that we made to- 
gether. It was across a valley right in front of the 
enemy’s cannon. By this time we were well used 
to the roar of heavy guns, the rattle of musket fire, 
and the flying of shot near us ; but never had I been 
under such a fire as we rode through on that day. 
From the right, from the left, and from the front, 
shot and shell poured in upon us. Many a brave 
man went down, many a horse fell, flinging his 
rider to the earth ; many a horse without a rider ran 
wildly out of the ranks, then, terrified at being 
alone, with no hand to guide him, came pressing in 
among his old companions, to gallop with them to 
the charge. 

“Fearful as it was, no one stopped, no one turned 
back. Every moment the ranks were thinned, but 
as our comrades fell we closed in to keep them to- 
gether; and, instead of being shaken or staggered 
in our pace, our gallop became faster and faster as 
we neared the cannon, all clouded in white smoke, 
while the red fire flashed through it. 

“My master, my dear master was cheering on 
239 


BLACK BEAUTY 


his comrades with his right arm raised on high, 
when one of the balls, whizzing close to my head, 
struck him. I felt him stagger with the shock, 
though he uttered no cry. I tried to check my 
speed, but the sword dropped from his right hand, 
the rein fell loose from the left, and, sinking back- 
ward from the saddle, he fell to the earth. The 
other riders swept past us, and by the force of their 
charge I was driven from the spot where he fell. 

“I wanted to keep my place by his side and not 
leave him under that rush of horses’ feet, but it was 
in vain, and now, without a master or a friend, I 
was alone on that great slaughter ground. Then 
fear took hold on me, and I trembled as I had never 
trembled before, and I, too, as I had seen other 
horses do, tried to join in the ranks and gallop 
with them; but I was beaten off by the swords of 
the soldiers. Just then, a soldier whose horse had 
been killed under him, caught at my bridle and 
mounted me, and with this new master I was again 
going forward ; but our gallant company was 
cruelly overpowered, and those who remained alive 
240 



“ I wanted to keep my place at his side.” 












. • 






















* 















’BLACK BEAUTY 


after the fierce fight for the guns came galloping 
back over the same ground. Some of the horses 
had been so badly wounded that they could scarcely 
move from the loss of blood; other noble creatures 
were trying on three legs to drag themselves along, 
and others were struggling to rise on their fore feet, 
when their hind legs had been shattered by shot. 
Their groans were piteous to hear, and the beseech- 
ing look in their eyes as those who escaped passed 
by, and left them to their fate, I shall never for- 
get. After the battle the wounded men were 
brought in, and the dead were buried.” 

“And what about the wounded horses?” I said. 
“Were they left to die?” 

“No, the army farriers went over the field with 
their pistols and shot all that were ruined. Some 
that had only slight wounds were brought back 
and attended to, but the greater part of the noble, 
willing creatures that went out that morning never 
came back! In our stables there was only about 
one in four that returned. 

“I never saw my dear master again. I believe 
241 


BLACK BEAUTY 


he fell dead from the saddle. I never loved any 
other master so well. I went into many other en- 
gagements, but was only once wounded, and then 
not seriously; and when the war was over, I came 
back again to England, as sound and strong as 
when I went out.” 

I said, “I have heard people talk about war as if 
it was a very fine thing.” 

“Ah!” said he, “I should think they never saw it. 
No doubt, it is very fine when there is no enemy, 
when it is just exercise and parade, and sham fight. 
Yes, it is very fine then, but when thousands of 
good, brave men and horses are killed, or crippled 
for life, it has a very different look.” 

“Do you know what they fought about?” said I. 

“No,” he said, “that is more than a horse can 
understand, but the enemy must have been awfully 
wicked people, if it was right to go all that way 
over the sea on purpose to kill them.” 


242 


CHAPTER XXXV 


JERRY BARKER 

I NEVER knew a better man than my new 
master. He was kind and good, and as 
strong for the right as John Manly, and so 
good-tempered and merry that very few people 
could pick a quarrel with him. He was very fond 
of making little songs, and singing them to him- 
self. One he was very fond of was this : 

“Come, father and mother, 

And sister and brother. 

Come, all of you, turn to 
And help one another.” 

And so they did. Harry was as clever at stable 
work as a much older boy, and always wanted to 
do what he could. Then Polly and Dolly used to 
come in the morning to help with the cab — to brush 
and beat the cushions, and rub the glass, while 
Jerry was giving us a cleaning in the yard and 
243 


BLACK BEAUTY 


Harry was rubbing the harness. There used to be 
a great deal of laughing and fun between them, and 
it put Captain and me in much better spirits than 
if we had heard scolding and hard words. They 
were always early in the morning, for Jerry would 
say: 

“If you in the morning 
Throw minutes away. 

You can’t pick them up 
In the course of the day. 

You may hurry and scurry. 

And flurry and worry, 

You’ve lost them for ever, 

For ever and aye.” 

He could not bear any careless loitering and 
waste of time, and nothing was so near making him 
angry as to find people who were always late, want- 
ing a cab horse to be driven hard, to make up for 
their idleness. 

One day two wild-looking young men came out 
of a tavern close by the stand, and called Jerry. 

“Here, cabby! look sharp, we are rather late. 
Put on the steam, w T ill you, and take us to the Vic- 


244 



The morning rub-down 






BLACK BEAUTY 


toria in time for the one o’clock train. You shall 
have a shilling extra.” 

“I will take you at the regular pace, gentlemen. 
Shillings don’t pay for putting on the steam like 
that.” 

Larry’s cab was standing next to ours. He 
flung open the door, and said, “I’m your man, gen- 
tlemen! take my cab, my horse will get you there 
all right;” and as he shut them in, with a wink 
towards Jerry, said, “It’s against his conscience to 
go beyond a jog-trot.” Then slashing his jaded 
horse, he set off as hard as he could. J erry patted 
me on the neck — “No, Jack, a shilling would not 
pay for that sort of thing, would it, old boy?” 

Although Jerry was determinately set against 
hard driving to please careless people, he always 
travelled at a good, fair pace, and was not 
against putting on the steam, as he said, if only 
he knew why . 

I well remember one morning, as we were on the 
stand waiting for a fare, that a young man, carry- 
ing a heavy portmanteau, trod on a piece of orange 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


peel which lay on the pavement and fell down with 
great force. 

Jerry was the first to run and lift him up. He 
seemed much stunned, and as they led him into a 
shop, he walked as if he were in great pain. J erry, 
of course, came back to the stand, but in about ten 
minutes one of the shopmen called him, so we drew 
up to the pavement. 

“Can you take me to the South-Eastern Rail- 
way?” said the young man. “This unlucky fall has 
made me late, I fear; but it is of great importance 
that I should not lose the twelve o’clock train. I 
should be most thankful if you could get me there 
in time, and will gladly pay you an extra fare.” 

“I’ll do my very best,” said Jerry heartily, “if 
you think you are well enough, sir,” for he looked 
dreadfully white and ill. 

“I must go,” he said earnestly. “Please to open 
the door, and let us lose no time.” 

The next minute Jerry was on the box, with a 
cheery chirrup to me and a twitch of the rein that 
I well understood. 


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BLACK BEAUTY 


“Now, then, Jack, my boy,” said he, “spin along. 
We’ll show them how we can get over the ground 
if we only know why.” 

It is always difficult to drive fast in the city in 
the middle of the day, when the streets are full of 
traffic, but we did what could be done, and when a 
good driver and a good horse, who understand each 
other, are of one mind, it is wonderful what they 
can do. I had a very good mouth — that is, I could 
be guided by the slightest touch of the rein, and 
that is a great thing in London, among carriages, 
omnibuses, carts, vans, trucks, cabs, and great 
wagons creeping along at a walking pace, some 
going one way, some another; some going slowly, 
others wanting to pass them; omnibuses stopping 
short every few minutes to take up a passenger, 
obliging the horse that is coming behind to pull 
up, too, or to pass, and get before them; perhaps 
you try to pass, but just then something else 
comes dashing in through the narrow opening, and 
you have to keep in behind the omnibus again. 
Presently you think you see a chance, and man- 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


a g e to get to the front, going so near the wheels on 
each side that half an inch nearer and they would 
scrape. Well, you get along for a bit, but soon find 
yourself in a long train of carts and carriages, all 
obliged to go at a walk. Perhaps you come to a 
regular block-up, and have to stand still for min- 
utes together, till something clears out into a side 
street or the policeman interferes. You have to 
be ready for any chance — to dash forward if there 
be an opening, and be quick as a rat-dog to see if 
there be room, and if there be time, lest you get 
your own wheels locked, or smashed, or the shaft 
of some other vehicle run into your chest or shoul- 
der. All this is what you have to be ready for. 
If you want to get through London fast in the mid- 
dle of the day, it wants a deal of practice. 

Jerry and I were used to it, and no one could 
beat us at getting through when we were set upon 
it. I was quick and bold, and could always trust 
my driver. Jerry was quick and patient at the 
same time, and could trust his horse, which was a 
great thing, too. He very seldom used the whip; 

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BLACK BEAUTY 


I knew by his voice, and his click-click, when he 
wanted to get on fast, and by the rein where I was 
to go, so there was no need for whipping; but I 
must go back to my story. 

The streets were very full that day, but we got 
on pretty well as far as the bottom of Cheapside, 
where there was a block for three or four minutes. 
The young man put his head out and said anx- 
iously, “I think I had better get out and walk. I 
shall never get there if this goes on.” 

“I’ll do all that can be done, sir,” said Jerry. 
“I think we shall be in time. This block-up can- 
not last much longer, and your luggage is very 
heavy for you to carry, sir.” 

Just then the cart in front of us began to move 
on, and then we had a good turn. In and out — 
in and out we went, as fast as horseflesh could do 
it, and for a wonder had a good, clear time on Lon- 
don Bridge, for there was a whole train of cabs 
and carriages, all going our way at a quick trot — 
perhaps wanting to catch that very train. At any 
rate, we whirled into the station with many more 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


just as the great clock pointed to eight minutes to 
twelve o’clock. 

“Thank God! we are in time,” said the young 
man, “and thank you, too, my friend, and your 
good horse. You have saved me more than money 
can ever pay for. Take this extra half-crown.” 

“No, sir, no; thank you all the same. So glad 
we hit the time, sir, but don’t stay now, sir ; the bell 
is ringing. Here, porter! take this gentleman’s 
luggage — Dover line — twelve o’clock train — that’s 
it,” and, without waiting for another word, Jerry 
wheeled me round to make room for other cabs that 
were dashing up at the last minute, and drew up on 
one side till the crush was past. 

“So glad!” he said; “so glad! Poor young fel- 
low! I wonder what it was that made him so anx- 
ious !” 

J erry often talked to himself quite loud enough 
for me to hear when we were not moving. 

On J erry’s return to the rank, there was a good 
deal of laughing and chaffing at him for driving 
hard to the train for an extra fare, as they said, all 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


against his principles, and they wanted to know 
how much he had pocketed. 

“A good deal more than I generally get,” said 
he, nodding slyly. “What he gave me will keep me 
in little comforts for several days.” 

“Gammon!” said one. 

“He’s a humbug,” said another, “preaching to 
us, and then doing the same himself.” 

“Look here, mates,” said Jerry, “the gentleman 
offered me half a crown extra, but I didn’t take 
it. ’Twas quite pay enough for me to see how 
glad he was to catch that train, and if J ack and I 
choose to have a quick run now and then, to please 
ourselves, that’s our business and not yours.” 

“Well,” said Larry, “youll never be a rich man.” 

“Most likely not,” said Jerry, “but I don’t know 
that I shall be the less happy for that. I have 
heard the commandments read a great many times, 
and I never noticed that any of them said, ‘Thou 
shalt be rich,’ and there are a good many curious 
things said in the New Testament about rich men 
that I think would make me feel rather queer.” 


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BLACK BEAUTY 


“If you ever do get rich,” said Governor Gray, 
looking over his shoulder across the top of his cab, 
“you’ll deserve it, Jerry, and you won’t find a 
curse come with your wealth. As for you, Larry, 
you’ll die poor. You spend too much in whipcord.” 

“Well,” said Larry, “what is a fellow to do if 
his horse won’t go without it?” 

“You never take the trouble to see if he will go 
without it. Your whip is always going as if you 
had the St. Vitus’ dance in your arm, and if it 
does not wear you out, it wears your horse out. 
You know you are always changing your horses, 
and why ? because you never give them any peace or 
encouragement. ’ ’ 

“Well, I have not had good luck,” said Larry. 
“That’s where it is.” 

“And you never will,” said the Governor. “Good 
Luck is rather particular who she rides with, and 
mostly prefers those who have got common sense 
and a good heart; at least, that is my experience.” 

Governor Gray turned round again to his news- 
paper, and the other men went to their cabs. 


254 


CHAPTER XXXVI 


THE SUNDAY CAB 

O NE morning, as Jerry had just put me 
into the shafts and was fastening the 
traces, a gentleman walked into the yard. 
“Your servant, sir,” said Jerry. 

“Good morning, Mr. Barker,” said the gentle- 
man. “I should be glad to make some arrange- 
ments with you for taking Mrs. Briggs regularly 
to church on Sunday mornings. We go to the New 
Church now, and that is rather farther than she 
can walk.” 

“Thank you, sir,” said Jerry, “but I have only 
taken out a six days’ license,* and therefore I could 
not take a fare on a Sunday; it would not be legal.” 

“Oh!” said the other, “I did not know yours was 
a six days’ cab; but, of course, it would be very 

* A few years since the annual charge for a cab license 
was very much reduced, and the difference between the six 
and seven days’ cabs was abolished. 

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BLACK BEAUTY 


easy to alter your license. I would see that you 
did not lose by it. The fact is, Mrs. Briggs very 
much prefers you to drive her.” 

“I should be glad to oblige the lady, sir, but I 
had a seven days’ license once, and the work was 
too hard for me, and too hard for my horses. Year 
in and year out, not a day’s rest, and never a Sun- 
day with my wife and children, and never able to go 
to a place of worship, which I had always been used 
to do before I took to the driving box, so for the 
last five years I have only taken a six days’ license, 
and I find it better all the way round.” 

“Well, of course,” replied Mr. Briggs, “it is 
very proper that every person should have rest, and 
be able to go to church on Sundays, but I should 
have thought you would not have minded such a 
short distance for the horse, and only once a day. 
You would have all the afternoon and evening for 
yourself, and we are very good customers, you 
know.” 

“Yes, sir, that is true, and I am grateful for all 
favors, I am sure, and anything that I could do to 
256 


BLACK BEAUTY 


oblige you, or the lady, I should be proud and 
happy to do ; but I can’t give up my Sundays, sir ; 
indeed, I can’t. I read that God made man, and 
He made horses and all the other beasts, and as 
soon as He had made them, He made a day of rest, 
and bade that all should rest one day in seven, and 
I think, sir, He must have known what was good 
for them, and I am sure it is good for me. I am 
stronger and healthier altogether, now that I have 
a day of rest. The horses are fresh, too, and do not 
wear up nearly so fast. The six-day drivers all tell 
me the same, and I have laid by more money in the 
savings bank than ever I did before ; and as for the 
wife and children, sir — why, heart alive! they would 
not go back to the seven days for all they could 
see.” 

“Oh, very well,” said the gentleman. “Don’t 
trouble yourself, Mr. Barker, any further. I will 
inquire somewhere else,” and he walked away. 

“Well,” says Jerry to me, “we can’t help it, 
Jack, old boy; we must have our Sundays.” 

“Polly!” he shouted. “Polly! come here.” 

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BLACK BEAUTY 


She was there in a minute. 

“What is it all about, Jerry?” 

“Why, my dear, Mr. Briggs wants me to take 
Mrs. Briggs to church every Sunday morning. I 
say, I have only a six days’ license. He says, ‘Get 
a seven days’ license, and I’ll make it worth your 
while;’ and you know, Polly, they are very good 
customers to us. Mrs. Briggs often goes out shop- 
ping for hours, or making calls, and then she pays 
down fair and honorable like a lady. There’s no 
beating down, or making three hours into two hours 
and a half, as some folks do, and it is easy work for 
the horses, not like tearing along to catch trains 
for people that are always a quarter of an hour too 
late, and if I don’t oblige her in this matter, it is 
very likely we shall lose them altogether. What 
do you say, little woman?” 

“I say, Jerry,” says she, speaking very slowly, 
“I say, if Mrs. Briggs would give you a sovereign 
every Sunday morning, I would not have you a 
seven days’ cabman again. We have known what 
it was to have no Sundays, and now we know what 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


it is to call them our own. Thank God, you earn 
enough to keep us, though it is sometimes close 
work to pay for all the oats and hay, the license, and 
the rent besides; but Harry will soon be earning 
something, and I would rather struggle on harder 
than we do, than go back to those horrid times, when 
you hardly had a minute to look at your own chil- 
dren, and we never could go to a place of worship 
together, or have a happy, quiet day. God for- 
bid that we should ever turn back to those times. 
That’s what I say, Jerry.” 

“And that is just what I told Mr. Briggs, my 
dear,” said Jerry, “and what I mean to stick to, 
'so don’t go and fret yourself, Polly (for she had 
begun to cry). I would not go back to the old 
times if I earned twice as much, so that is set- 
tled, little woman. Now cheer up, and I’ll be off 
to the stand.” 

Three weeks had passed away after this conver- 
sation, and no order had come from Mrs. Briggs, 
so there was nothing but taking jobs from the 

stand. Jerry took it to heart a good deal, for, of 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


course, the work was harder for horse and man, 
but Polly would always cheer him up and say, 
“Never mind, father, never mind — 

Do your best. 

And leave the rest, 

’Twill all come right 
Some day or night.” 

It soon became known that Jerry had lost his 
best customer, and for what reason. Most of the 
men said he was a fool, but two or three took his 
part. 

“If workingmen don’t stick to their Sunday,” 
said Truman, “they’ll soon have none left. It is 
every man’s right and every beast’s right. By 
God’s law we have a day of rest, and by the law of 
England we have a day of rest, and I say we ought 
to hold to the rights these laws give us, and keep 
them for our children.” 

“All very well for you religious chaps to talk 
so,” said Larry, “but I’ll turn a shilling when I 
can. I don’t believe in religion, for I don’t see that 
your religious people are any better than the rest.” 

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BLACK BEAUTY 


“If they are not better,” put in Jerry, “it is be- 
cause they are not religious. You might as well 
say that our country’s laws are not good because 
some people break them. If a man gives way to 
his temper, and speaks evil of his neighbor, and 
does not pay his debts, he is not religious. I don’t 
care how much he goes to church. If some men 
are shams and humbugs, that does not make re- 
ligion untrue. Real religion is the best and the tru- 
est thing in the world, and the only thing that can 
make a man really happy, or make the world any 
better.” 

“If religion was good for anything,” said Jones, 
“it would prevent your religious people from mak- 
ing us work on Sundays, as you know many of 
them do, and that’s why I say religion is nothing 
but a sham — why, if it was not for the church and 
chapel goers it would be hardly worth while our 
coming out on a Sunday, but they have their priv- 
ileges, as they call them, and I go without. I shall 
expect them to answer for my soul, if I can’t get a 
chance of saving it.” 


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BLACK BEAUTY 


Several of the men applauded this, till Jerry 
said : 

“That may sound well enough, but it won’t do. 
Every man must look after his own soul. You can’t 
lay it down at another man’s door, like a foundling, 
and expect him to take care of it; and don’t you 
see, if you are always sitting on your box waiting 
for a fare, they will say, Tf we don’t take him, 
some one else will, and he does not look for any 
Sunday.’ Of course, they don’t go to the bottom 
of it, or they would see if they never came for a 
cab, it would be no use your standing there; but 
people don’t always like to go to the bottom of 
things — it may not be convenient to do it — but if 
you Sunday drivers would all strike for a day of 
rest, the thing would be done.” 

“And what would all the good people do, if they 
could not get to their favorite preachers?” said 
Larry. 

“ ’Tis not for me to lay down plans for other 
people,” said Jerry, “but if they can’t walk so far, 
they can go to what is nearer, and if it should rain 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


they can put on their mackintoshes as they do on 
a week day. If a thing is right, it can be done, 
and if it is wrong, it can be done without ; and a 
good man will find a way, and that is as true for us 
cabmen as it is for the church-goers.” 


263 


CHAPTER XXXVII 


THE GOLDEN RULE 

T WO or three weeks after this, as we came 
into the yard rather late in the evening, 
Polly came running across the road with 
the lantern (she always brought it to him if it was 
not very wet) . 

“It has all come right, Jerry. Mrs. Briggs sent 
her servant this afternoon to ask you to take her 
out to-morrow at eleven o’clock. I said, ‘Yes, I 
thought so, but we supposed she employed some 
one else now.’ 

“ ‘Well,’ says he, ‘the real fact is, master was put 
out because Mr. Barker refused to come on Sun- 
days, and he has been trying other cabs, but there’s 
something wrong with them all. Some drive too 
fast, and some too slow, and the mistress says 
there is not one of them so nice and clean as yours, 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


and nothing will suit her but Mr. Barker’s cab 
again.’ ” 

Polly was almost out of breath, and Jerry broke 
out into a merry laugh. 

“All come right some day or night. You were 
right, my dear ; you generally are. Run in and get 
the supper, and I’ll have Jack’s harness off and 
make him snug and happy in no time.” 

After this, Mrs. Briggs wanted Jerry’s cab quite 
as often as before; never, however, on a Sunday; 
but there came a day when we had Sunday work, 
and this is how it happened. We had all come 
home on the Saturday night very tired, and very 
glad to think that the next day would be all rest, 
but so it was not to be. 

On Sunday morning Jerry was cleaning me in 
the yard, when Polly stepped up to him, looking 
very full of something. 

“What is it, dear?” said Jerry. 

“Well, my dear,” she said, “poor Dinah Brown 
has just had a letter brought to say that her mother 
is dangerously ill, and that she must go directly if 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


she wishes to see her alive. The place is more 
than ten miles away from here, out in the country, 
and she says if she takes the train she should still 
have four miles to walk, and so weak as she is, and 
the baby only four weeks old, of course that would 
be impossible, and she wants to know if you would 
take her in your cab, and she promises to pay you 
faithfully, as she can get the money.” 

“Tut, tut, we’ll see about that. It was not the 
money I was thinking about, but of losing our 
Sunday. The horses are tired, and I am tired, too 
— that’s where it pinches.” 

“It pinches all round, for that matter,” said 
Polly, “for it’s only half Sunday without you, but 
you know we should do to other people as we 
should like they should do to us ; and I know very 
well what I should like if my mother was dying, 
and, Jerry, dear, I am sure it won’t break the Sab- 
bath, for, if pulling a poor beast or donkey out of 
a pit would not spoil it, I am quite sure taking poor 
Dinah would not do it.” 

“Why, Polly, you are as good as the minister, 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


and so, as I’ve had my Sunday morning sermon 
early to-day, you may go and tell Dinah that I’ll be 
ready for her as the clock strikes ten; but stop — 
just step round to Butcher Braydon’s with my com- 
pliments, and ask him if he would lend me his light 
trap. I know he never uses it on the Sunday, and 
it would make a wonderful difference to the horse.” 

Away she went, and soon returned, saying that 
he could have the trap and welcome. 

“All right,” said he, “now put me up a bit of 
bread and cheese, and I’ll be back in the afternoon 
as soon as I can.” 

“And I’ll have the meat pie ready for an early 
tea instead of for dinner,” said Polly, and away she 
went, while he made his preparations to the tune 
of “Polly’s the woman and no mistake,” of which 
tune he was very fond. 

I was selected for the journey, and at ten o’clock 
we started, in a light, high-wheeled gig, which 
ran so easily that, after the four-wheeled cab, it 
seemed like nothing. 

It was a fine May day, and as soon as we were 

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BLACK BEAUTY 


out of the town, the sweet air, the smell of the fresh 
grass, and the soft country roads were as pleasant 
as they used to be in the old times, and I soon began 
to feel quite fresh. 

Dinah’s family lived in a small farmhouse, up a 
green lane, close by a meadow with some fine, shady 
trees. There were two cows feeding in it. A 
young man asked Jerry to bring his trap into the 
meadow, and he would tie me up in the cowshed. 
He wished he had a better stable to offer. 

“If your cows would not be offended,” said 
Jerry, “there is nothing my horse would like so well 
as to have an hour or two in your beautiful 
meadow. He’s quiet, and it would be a rare treat 
for him.” 

“Do, and welcome,” said the young man. “The 
best we have is at your service for your kindness 
to my sister. We shall be having some dinner in 
an hour, and I hope you’ll come in, though 
with mother so ill we are all out of sorts in the 
house.” 

Jerry thanked him kindly, but said as he had 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


some dinner with him, there was nothing he should 
like so well as walking about in the meadow. 

When my harness was taken off, I did not know 
what I should do first — whether to eat the grass, 
or roll over on my back, or lie down and rest, or 
have a gallop across the meadow out of sheer spirits 
at being free, and I did all by turns. Jerry seemed 
to be quite as happy as I was. He sat down by a 
bank under a shady tree, and listened to the birds ; 
then he sang himself, and read out of the little 
brown book he is so fond of, then wandered round 
the meadow and down by a little brook, where he 
picked the flowers and the hawthorn, and tied them 
up with long sprays of ivy. Then he gave me a 
good feed of the oats which he had brought with 
him; but the time seemed all too short — I had not 
been in a field since I left poor Ginger at Earls- 
hall. 

We came home gently, and Jerry’s first words 
were, as we came into the yard, “Well, Polly, I 
have not lost my Sunday after all, for the birds 
were singing hymns in every bush, and I joined in 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


the service; and as for Jack, he was like a young 
colt.” 

When he handed Dolly the flowers, she jumped 
about for joy. 


270 


CHAPTER XXXVIII 


DOLLY AND A REAL GENTLEMAN 

T HE winter came in early, with a great deal 
of cold and wet. There was snow, or 
sleet, or rain, almost every day for weeks, 
changing only for keen driving winds, or sharp 
frosts. The horses all felt it very much. When it 
is a dry cold, a couple of good, thick rugs will keep 
the warmth in us, but when it is soaking rain, they 
soon get wet through and are no good. Some of 
the drivers had a waterproof cover to throw over, 
which was a fine thing, but some of the men were 
so poor that they could not protect either them- 
selves or their horses, and many of them suffered 
very much that winter. When we horses had 
worked half the day, we went to our dry stables, 
and could rest, while they had to sit on their boxes, 
sometimes staying out as late as one or two o’clock 
in the morning, if they had a party to wait for. 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


When the streets were slippery with frost or snow, 
that was the worst of all for us horses. One mile 
of such traveling, with a weight to draw, and no 
firm footing, would take more out of us than four 
on a good road. Every nerve and muscle of our 
bodies is on the strain to keep our balance, and 
added to this, the fear of falling is more exhaust- 
ing than anything else. If the roads are very bad 
indeed, our shoes are roughed, but that makes us 
feel nervous at first. 

When the weather was very bad, many of the 
men would go and sit in the tavern close by, and 
get some one to watch for them, but they often lost 
a fare in that way, and could not, as Jerry said, 
be there without spending money. He never went 
to the “Rising Sun.” There was a coffee shop 
near, where he now and then went — or he bought 
of an old man, who came to our rank with tins of 
hot coffee and pies. It was his opinion that spirits 
and beer made a man colder afterwards, and that 
dry clothes, good food, cheerfulness, and a comfort- 
able wife at home were the best things to keep a 
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BLACK BEAUTY 

cabman warm. Polly alwaj^s supplied him with 
something to eat when he could not get home, and 
sometimes he would see little Dolly peeping from 
the corner of the street, to make sure if “father” 
was on the stand. If she saw him, she would run 
off at full speed and soon come back with some- 
thing in a tin or basket — some hot soup or pudding 
that Polly had ready. It was wonderful how such 
a little thing could get safely across the street, often 
thronged with horses and carriages, but she was a 
brave little maid, and felt it quite an honor to bring 
“father’s first course,” as he used to call it. She 
was a general favorite on the stand, and there was 
not a man who would not have seen her safely 
across the street if Jerry had not been able to do it. 

One cold, windy day, Dolly had brought Jerry a 
basin of something hot, and was standing by him 
while he ate it. He had scarcely begun when a 
gentleman, walking towards us very fast, held up 
his umbrella. Jerry touched his hat in return, gave 
the basin to Dolly, and was taking off my cloth, 
when the gentleman, hastening up, cried out, “No, 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


no, finish your soup, my friend. I have not much 
time to spare, but I can wait till you have done, 
and set your little girl safe on the pavement.” So 
saying, he seated himself in the cab. Jerry 
thanked him kindly, and came back to Dolly. 

“There, Dolly, that’s a gentleman; that’s a 
real gentleman, Dolly. He has got time and 
thought for the comfort of a poor cabman and a 
little girl.” 

J erry finished his soup, set the child across, and 
then took his orders to drive to “Clapham Rise.” 
Several times after that, the same gentleman took 
our cab. I think he was very fond of dogs and 
horses, for whenever we took him to his own door, 
two or three dogs would come bounding out to 
meet him. Sometimes he came round and patted 
me, saying in his quiet, pleasant way, “This horse 
has got a good master, and he deserves it.” It was 
a very rare thing for any one to notice the horse 
that had been working for him. I have known 
ladies do it now and then, and this gentleman, and 
one or two others have given me a pat and a kind 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


word; but ninety-nine out of a hundred would as 
soon think of patting the steam engine that drew 
the train. 

This gentleman was not young, and there was 
a forward stoop in his shoulders as if he was al- 
ways going at something. His lips were thin, and 
close shut, though they had a very pleasant smile. 
His eye was keen, and there was something in his 
jaw and the motion of his head that made one think 
he was very determined in anything he set about. 
His voice was pleasant and kind ; any horse would 
trust that voice, though it was just as decided as 
everything else about him. 

One day, he and another gentleman took our 

cab. They stopped at a shop in R street, and 

while his friend went in, he stood at the door. A 
little ahead of us on the other side of the street, a 
cart with two very fine horses was standing before 
some wine vaults. The carter was not with them, 
and I cannot tell how long they had been stand- 
ing, but they seemed to think they had waited long 
enough, and began to move off. Before they had 
275 


BLACK BEAUTY 


gone many paces, the carter came running out and 
caught them. He seemed furious at their having 
moved, and with whip and rein punished them bru- 
tally, even beating them about the head. Our gen- 
tleman saw it all, and, stepping quickly across the 
street, said in a decided voice: 

“If you don’t stop that directly, I’ll have you 
summoned for leaving your horses, and for brutal 
conduct.” 

The man, who had clearly been drinking, poured 
forth some abusive language, but he left off knock- 
ing the horses about, and, taking the reins, got into 
his cart. Meantime our friend had quietly taken a 
notebook from his pocket, and, looking at the name 
and address painted on the cart, he wrote some- 
thing down. 

“What do you want with that?” growled the 
carter, as he cracked his whip and was moving on. 

A nod, and a grim smile was the only answer he 
got. 

On returning to the cab, our friend was joined 
by his companion, who said laughingly, “I should 
276 


BLACK BEAUTY 


have thought, Wright, you had enough business of 
your own to look after, without troubling your- 
self about other people’s horses and Servants.” 

Our friend stood still for a moment, and, throw- 
ing his head a little back, “Do you know why this 
world is as bad as it is?” 

“No,” said the other. 

“Then I’ll tell you. It is because people think 
only about their own business, and won’t trouble 
themselves to stand up for the oppressed, nor bring 
the wrongdoer to light. I never see a wicked thing 
like this without doing what I can, and many a 
master has thanked me for letting him know how 
his horses have been used.” 

“I wish there were more gentlemen like you, 
sir,” said Jerry, “for they are wanted badly enough 
in this city.” 

After this we continued our journey, and as they 
got out of the cab, our friend was saying, “My 
doctrine is this, that if we see cruelty or wrong that 
we have the power to stop, and do nothing, we 
make ourselves sharers in the guilt.” 

277 


CHAPTER XXXIX 


SEEDY SAM 

I SHOULD say that, for a cab horse, I was very 
well off indeed. My driver was my owner, 
and it was his interest to treat me well, and 
not overwork me, even had he not been so good a 
man as he was ; but there were a great many horses 
which belonged to the large cab owners, who let 
them out to their drivers for so much money a day. 
As the horses did not belong to these men, the only 
thing they thought of was how to get their money 
out of them, first, to pay the master, and then to 
provide for their own living, and a dreadful time 
some of these horses had of it. Of course, I under- 
stand but little, but it was often talked over on the 
stand, and the Governor, who was a kind-hearted 
man, and fond of horses, would sometimes speak up 
if one came in very much jaded or ill-used. 

One day, a shabby, miserable-looking driver, who 
278 


BLACK BEAUTY 


went by the name of “Seedy Sam,” brought in his 
horse looking dreadfully beat, and the Governor 
said : 

“You and your horse look more fit for the police 
station than for this rank.” 

The man flung his tattered rug over the horse, 
turned full round upon the Governor, and said, 
in a voice that sounded almost desperate : 

“If the police have any business with the mat- 
ter, it ought to be with the masters who charge us 
so much, or with the fares that are fixed so low. 
If a man has to pay eighteen shillings a day for the 
use of a cab and two horses, as many of us have to 
do in the season, and must make that up before we 
can earn a penny for ourselves, I say, ’tis more than 
hard work ; nine shillings a day to get out of each 
horse before you begin to get your own living. 
You know that’s true, and if the horses don’t work 
we must starve, and I and my children have known 
what that is before now. I’ve six of ’em, and only 
one earns anything. I am on the stand fourteen or 
sixteen hours a day, and I haven’t had a Sunday 
279 


BLACK BEAUTY 


these ten or twelve weeks. You know, Skinner 
never gives a day if he can help it, and if I don’t 
work hard, tell me who does ! I want a warm coat 
and a mackintosh, but with so many to feed, how 
can a man get it? I had to pledge my clock a week 
ago to pay Skinner, and I shall never see it again.” 

Some of the other drivers stood round nodding 
their heads, and saying he was right. The man 
went on: 

“You that have your own horses and cabs, or 
drive for good masters, have a chance of getting 
on, and a chance of doing right; I haven’t. We 
can’t charge more than sixpence a mile after the 
first, within the four-mile radius. This very morn- 
ing I had to go a clear six miles and only took three 
shillings. I could not get a return fare, and had 
to come all the way back. There’s twelve miles for 
the horse and three shillings for me. After that I 
had a three-mile fare, and there were bags and 
boxes enough to have brought in a good many two- 
pences if they had been put outside ; but you .know 
how people do. All that could be piled up inside on 
280 


BLACK BEAUTY 


the front seat were put in, and three heavy boxes 
went on the top. That was sixpence, and the fare 
one and sixpence. Then I got a return for a shilling, 
Now, that makes eighteen miles for the horse and 
six shillings for me. There’s three shillings still for 
that horse to earn, and nine shillings for the after- 
noon horse before I touch a penny. Of course, it 
is not always so bad as that, but you know it often 
is, and I say ’tis a mockery to tell a man that he 
must not overwork his horse, for when a beast is 
downright tired, there’s nothing but the whip that 
will keep his legs agoing — you can’t help your- 
self — you must put your wife and children before 
the horse ; the masters must look to that ; we can’t. 
I don’t ill-use my horse for the sake of it. None of 
you can say I do. There’s wrong lays somewhere 
— never a day’s rest — never a quiet hour with the 
wife and children. I often feel like an old man, 
though I’m only forty-five. You know how quick 
some of the gentry are to suspect us of cheating and 
overcharging. Why, they stand with their purses 
in their hands, counting it over to a penny, and 
281 


BLACK BEAUTY 


looking at us as if we were pickpockets. I wish 
some of ’em had got to sit on my box sixteen hours 
a day, and get a living out of it, and eighteen 
shillings beside, and that in all weathers. They 
would not be so uncommon particular never to give 
us a sixpence over, or to cram all the luggage in- 
side. Of course, some of ’em tip us pretty hand- 
some now and then, or else we could not live, but 
you can’t depend upon that.” 

The men who stood round much approved this 
speech, and one of them said, “It is desperate hard, 
and if a man sometimes does what is wrong, it is 
no wonder, and if he gets a dram too much, who’s 
to blow him up?” 

Jerry had taken no part in this conversation, but 
I never saw his face look so sad before. The Gov- 
ernor had stood with both his hands in his pockets. 
Now he took his handkerchief out of his hat, and 
wiped his forehead. 

“You’ve beaten me, Sam,” he said, “for it’s all 
true, and I won’t cast it up to you any more about 
the police. It was the look in that horse’s eye that 
282 


BLACK BEAUTY 


came over me. It is hard lines for man, and it is 
hard lines for beast, and who’s to mend it I don’t 
know ; but any way, you might tell the poor beast 
that you were sorry to take it out of him in that 
way. Sometimes a kind word is all we can give 
’em, poor brutes, and ’tis wonderful what they do 
understand.” 

A few mornings after this talk, a new man came 
on the stand with Sam’s cab. 

“Halloo!” said one, “what’s up with Seedy 
Sam?” 

“He’s ill in bed,” said the man. “He was taken 
last night in the yard, and could scarcely crawl 
home. His wife sent a boy this morning to say his 
father was in a high fever and could not get out, so 
I’m here instead.” 

The next morning the same man came again. 

“How is Sam?” inquired the Governor. 

“He’s gone,” said the man. 

“What, gone? You don’t mean to say he’s 
dead?” 

“Just snuffed out,” said the other. ‘ He died at 
283 


BLACK BEAUTY 


four o’clock this morning. All yesterday he was 
raving — raving about Skinner and having no Sun- 
days. T never had a Sunday’s rest,’ these were his 
last words.” 

No one spoke for a while, and then the Governor 
said, “I tell you what, mates, this is a warning 
for us.” 


284 


CHAPTER XL 


POOR GINGER 

O NE day, while our cab and many others 
were waiting outside one of the parks, 
where a band was playing, a shabby old 
cab drove up beside ours. The horse was an old, 
worn-out chestnut, with an ill-kept coat and bones 
that showed plainly through it. The knees knuck- 
led over, and the forelegs were very unsteady. I 
had been eating some hay, and the wind rolled a 
little lock of it that way, and the poor creature put 
out her long, thin neck and picked it up, and then 
turned round and looked about for more. There 
was a hopeless look in the dull eye that I could not 
help noticing, and then, as I was thinking where 
I had seen that horse before, she looked full at me 
and said, “Black Beauty, is that you?” 

It was Ginger! but how changed! The beauti- 
fully arched and glossy neck was now straight, 
285 


BLACK BEAUTY 


and lank, and fallen in; the clean, straight legs and 
delicate fetlocks were swelled; the joints were 
grown out of shape with hard work; the face, that 
was once so full of spirit and life, was now full of 
suffering, and I could tell by the heaving of her 
sides, and her frequent cough, how bad her breath 
was. 

Our drivers were standing together a little way 
off, so I sidled up to her a step or two, that we 
might have a little quiet talk. It was a sad tale that 
she had to tell. 

After a twelvemonth’s run off at Earlshall, she 
was considered to be fit for work again, and was 
sold to a gentleman. For a little while she got on 
very well, but after a longer gallop than usual, the 
old strain returned, and after being rested and 
doctored, she was again sold. In this way she 
changed hands several times, but always getting 
lower down. 

“And so at last,” said she, “I was bought by a 
man who keeps a number of cabs and horses, and 
lets them out. You look well off, and I am glad 
286 


BLACK BEAUTY 


of it, but I could not tell you what my life has 
been. When they found out my weakness, they 
said I was not worth what they gave for me, and 
that I must go into one of the low cabs, and just 
be used up. That is what they are doing, whipping 
and working with never one thought of what I 
suffer. They paid for me, and must get it out of 
me, they say. The man who hires me now pays a 
deal of money to the owner every day, and so he has 
to get it out of me, too; and so it’s all the week 
round and round, with never a Sunday rest.” 

I said, “You used to stand up for yourself if 
you were ill-used.” 

“Ah!” she said, “I did once, but it’s no use. Men 
are strongest, and if they are cruel and have no 
feeling, there is nothing that we can do, but just 
bear it, bear it on and on to the end. I wish the 
end was come. I wish I was dead. I have seen 
dead horses, and I am sure they do not suffer pain. 
I wish I may drop down dead at my work, and not 
be sent off to the knacker’s.” 

I was very much troubled, and I put my nose up 
287 


BLACK BEAUTY 


to hers, but I could say nothing to comfort her. I 
think she was pleased to see me, for she said, “You 
are the only friend I ever had.” 

Just then her driver came up, and with a tug 
at her mouth backed her out of the line and drove 
off, leaving me very sad indeed. 

A short time after this, a cart with a dead horse 
in it passed our cab stand. The head hung out of 
the cart tail, the lifeless tongue was slowly drop- 
ping with blood, and the sunken eyes ! but I can’t 
speak of them, the sight was too dreadful. It was a 
chestnut horse with a long, thin neck. I saw a 
white streak down the forehead. I believe it was 
Ginger. I hoped it was, for then her troubles 
would be over. Oh! if men were more merciful, 
they would shoot us before we came to such misery. 


288 


CHAPTER XLI 


THE BUTCHER 

I S AW a great deal of trouble among the horses 
in London, and much of it that might have 
been prevented by a little common sense. We 
horses do not mind hard work if we are treated rea- 
sonably, and I am sure there are many driven by 
quite poor men who have a happier life than I had, 
when I used to go in the Countess of W ’s car- 

riage, with my silver-mounted harness and high 
feeding. 

It often went to my heart to see how the little 
ponies were used, straining along with heavy loads, 
or staggering under heavy blows from some low, 
cruel boy. Once I saw a little gray pony, with a 
thick mane and a pretty head, and so much like 
Merrylegs that if I had not been in harness, I 
should have neighed to him. He was doing his best 
to pull a heavy cart, while a strong, rough boy 
289 


BLACK BEAUTY 


was cutting him under the belly with his whip, and 
chucking cruelly at his little mouth. Could it be 
Merrylegs? It was just like him; but then, Mr. 
Blomefield was never to sell him, and I think he 
would not do it; but this might have been quite as 
good a little fellow, and had as happy a place when 
he was young. 

I often noticed the great speed at which butchers’ 
horses were made to go, though I did not know why 
it was so, till one day, when we had to wait some 
time in “St. John’s Wood.” There was a butcher’s 
shop next door, and as we were standing a butcher’s 
cart came dashing up at a great pace. The horse 
was hot, and much exhausted; he hung his head 
down, while his heaving sides and trembling legs 
showed how hard he had been driven. The lad 
jumped out of the cart and was getting the basket, 
when the master came out of the shop much dis- 
pleased. After looking at the horse, he turned 
angrily to the lad. 

“How many times shall I tell you not to drive in 
this way? You ruined the last horse and broke 


290 


BLACK BEAUTY 


his wind, and you are going to ruin this in the same 
way. If you were not my own son, I would dis- 
miss you on the spot ; it is a disgrace to have a horse 
brought to the shop in a condition like that. You 
are liable to be taken up by the police for such driv- 
ing, and if you are, you need not look to me for 
bail, for I have spoken to you till I am tired. You 
must look out for yourself.” 

During this speech, the boy had stood by, sullen 
and dogged, but when his father ceased, he broke 
out angrily. It wasn’t his fault, and he wouldn’t 
take the blame ; he was only going by orders all the 
time. 

“You always say, ‘Now be quick; now look 
sharp!’ and when I go to the houses, one wants a 
leg of mutton for an early dinner, and I must be 
back with it in a quarter of an hour. Another cook 
had forgotten to order the beef. I must go and 
fetch it and be back in no time, or the mistress will 
scold, and the housekeeper says they have com- 
pany coming unexpectedly, and must have some 
chops sent up directly; and the lady at No. 4, in the 
291 


BLACK BEAUTY 


Crescent, never orders her dinner till the meat 
comes in for lunch, and it’s nothing but hurry, 
hurry, all the time. If the gentry would think of 
what they want, and order their meat the day be- 
fore, there need not be this blow-up!” 

“I wish to goodness they would,” said the 
butcher. “ ’T would save me a wonderful deal of 
harass, and I could suit my customers much better 
if I knew beforehand — but there — what’s the use 
of talking — who eyer thinks of a butcher’s conven- 
ience, or a butcher’s horse? Now, then, take him 
in, and look to him well. Mind, he does not go 
out again to-day, and if anything else is wanted, 
you must carry it yourself in the basket.” With 
that, he went in, and the horse was led away. 

But all boys are not cruel. I have seen some as 
fond of their pony or donkey as if it had been a 
favorite dog, and the little creatures have worked 
away as cheerfully and willingly for their young 
drivers as I work for Jerry. It may be hard work 
sometimes, but a friend’s hand and voice make it 


easy. 


292 


BLACK BEAUTY 


There was a young coster-boy who came up our 
street with greens and potatoes. He had an old 
pony, not very handsome, but the cheerfullest and 
pluckiest little thing I ever saw, and to see how 
fond those two were of each other was a treat. The 
pony followed his master like a dog, and when he 
got into his cart, would trot off without a whip or a 
word, and rattle down the street as merrily as if he 
had come out of the Queen’s stables. Jerry liked 
the boy, and called him “Prince Charlie,” for he 
said he would make a king of drivers some day. 

There was an old man, too, who used to come 
up our street with a little coal cart. He wore a 
coal-heaver’s hat, and looked rough and black. He 
and his old horse used to plod together along the 
street, like two good partners who understood each 
other. The horse would stop of his own accord at 
the doors where they took coal of him. He used 
to keep one ear bent towards his master. The old 
man’s cry could he heard up the street long before 
he came near. I never knew what he said, but the 
children called him “Old Ba-a-ar Hoo,” for it 
293 


BLACK BEAUTY 


sounded something like that. Polly took her coal 
of him, and was very friendly, and Jerry said it 

was a comfort to think how happy an old horse 
might be in a poor place. 


294 


CHAPTER XLII 


THE ELECTION 

A S WE came into the yard one afternoon, 

Polly came out. “Jerry! I’ve had Mr. B 

here asking about your vote, and he wants 
to hire your cab for the election. He will call for 
an answer.” 

“Well, Polly, you may say that my cab will be 
otherwise engaged. I should not like to have it 
pasted over with their great bills, and as to make 
Jack and Captain race about to the public houses to 
bring up half-drunken voters, why, I think ’twould 
be an insult to the horses. No, I shan’t do it.” 

“I suppose you’ll vote for the gentleman? He 
said he was of your politics.” 

“So he is in some things, but I shall not vote for 
him, Polly. You know what his trade is?” 

“Yes.” 


295 


BLACK BEAUTY 


“Well, a man who gets rich by that trade may 
be all very well in some ways, but he is blind as 
to what workingmen want. I could not in my con- 
science send him up to make the laws. I daresay 
they’ll be angry, but every man must do what he 
thinks to be the best for his country.” 

On the morning before the election, Jerry was 
putting me into the shafts, when Dolly came into 
the yard sobbing and crying, with her little blue 
frock and white pinafore spattered all over with 
mud. 

“Why, Dolly, what is the matter?” 

“Those naughty boys,” she sobbed, “have thrown 
the dirt all over me, and called me a little ragga — 
ragga ” 

“They called her a little blue raggamuffin, 
father,” said Harry, who ran in looking very angry. 
“But I have given it to them; they won’t insult my 
sister again. I have given them a thrashing they 
will remember. A set of cowardly, rascally, orange 
blackguards!” 

Jerry kissed the child and said, “Run in to 
296 


BLACK BEAUTY 


mother, my pet, and tell her I think you had better 
stay at home to-day and help her.” 

Then turning gravely to Harry : 

“My boy, I hope you will always defend your 
sister, and give anybody who insults her a good 
thrashing — that is as it should be; but mind, I 
won’t have any election blackguarding on my prem- 
ises. There are as many blue blackguards as there 
are orange, and as many white as there are pur- 
ple, or any other color, and I won’t have any of my 
family mixed up with it. Even women and chil- 
dren are ready to quarrel for the sake of a color, 
and not one in ten of them knows what it is about.” 

“Why, father, I thought blue was for Liberty.” 

“My boy, Liberty does not come from colors; 
they only show party, and all the liberty you can 
get out of them is liberty to get drunk at other 
people’s expense, liberty to ride to the poll in a 
dirty old cab, liberty to abuse any one that does 
not wear your color, and to shout yourself hoarse 
at what you only half understand — that’s your 
liberty!” 


297 


BLACK BEAUTY 


“Oh, father, you are laughing.” 

“No, Harry, I am serious, and I am ashamed 
to see how men go on that ought to know better. 
An election is a very serious thing. At least, it 
ought to be, and every man ought to vote accord- 
ing to his conscience, and let his neighbor do the 
same.” 


298 


CHAPTER XLIII 


A FRIEND IN NEED 

A T last came the election day. There was no 
lack of work for Jerry and me. First 
came a stout, puffy gentleman with a car- 
pet bag. He wanted to go to the Bishopgate Sta- 
tion. Then we were called by a party who wished 
to be taken to the Regent’s Park, and next we were 
wanted in a side street, where a timid, anxious old 
lady was waiting to be taken to the bank. There 
we had to stop to take her back again, and just as 
we had set her down a red-faced gentleman, with 
a handful of papers, came running up out of 
breath, and before Jerry could get down, he had 
opened the door, popped himself in, and called out, 
“Bow Street Police Station, quick!” so off we went 
with him, and when after another turn or two we 
came back, there was no other cab on the stand. 
Jerry put on my nose-bag, for, as he said, “We 
299 


BLACK BEAUTY 


must eat when we can on such days as these; so 
munch away, Jack, and make the best of your time, 
old boy.” 

I found I had a good feed of crushed oats wetted 
up with a little bran. This would be a treat any 
day, but was especially refreshing then. Jerry 
was so thoughtful and kind — what horse would not 
do his best for such a master? Then he took out 
one of Polly’s meat pies, and, standing near me, 
he began to eat it. The streets were very full, and 
the cabs, with the candidates’ colors on them, were 
dashing about through the crowd as if life and limb 
were of no consequence. We saw two people 
knocked down that day, and one was a woman. 
The horses were having a bad time of it, poor 
things! but the voters inside thought nothing of 
that ; many of them were half drunk, hurrahing out 
of the cab windows if their own party came by. 
It was the first election I had seen, and I don’t 
want to be in another, though I have heard things 
are better now. 

Jerry and I had not eaten many mouthfuls be- 
300 


BLACK BEAUTY 


fore a poor young woman, carrying a heavy child, 
came along the street. She was looking this way, 
and that way, and seemed quite bewildered. Pres- 
ently she made her way up to Jerry, and asked if 
he could tell her the way to St. Thomas’ Hospital, 
and how far it was to get there. She had come from 
the country that morning, she said, in a market 
cart. She did not know about the election, and was 
quite a stranger in London. She had got an order 
for the hospital for her little boy. The child was 
crying with a feeble, pining cry. 

“Poor little fellow!” she said, “he suffers a deal 
of pain. He is four years old, and can’t walk any 
more than a baby; but the doctor said if I could 
get him into the hospital, he might get well. Pray, 
sir, how far is it? and which way is it?” 

“Why, missis,” said Jerry, “you can’t get there 
walking through crowds like this ! Why, it is three 
miles away, and that child is heavy.” 

“Yes, bless him, he is, but I am strong, thank 
God, and if I knew the way, I think I should get 
on somehow. Please tell me the way.” 


301 


BLACK BEAUTY 


1 “You can’t do it,” said Jerry. “You might be 
knocked down and the child run over. Now, look 
here, just get into this cab, and I’ll drive you safe 
to the hospital. Don’t you see the rain is com- 
ing on?” 

“No, sir, no, I can’t do that, thank you. I have 
only just money enough to get back with. Please 
tell me the way.” 

“Look you here, missis,” said Jerry, “I’ve got a 
wife and dear children at home, and I know a 
father’s feelings. Now get you into that cab, and 
I’ll take you there for nothing. I’d be ashamed 
of myself to let a woman and a sick child run a risk 
like that.” 

“Heaven bless you!” said the woman, and burst 
into tears. 

“There, there, cheer up, my dear, I’ll soon take 
you there. Come, let me put you inside.” 

As Jerry went to open the door, two men, with 
colors in their hats and buttonholes, ran up, call- 
ing out, “Cab!” 

“Engaged,” cried Jerry; but one of the men, 
302 


BLACK BEAUTY 


pushing past the woman, sprang into the cab, fol- 
lowed by the other. Jerry looked as stern as a 
policeman. “This cab is already engaged, gentle- 
men, by that lady.” 

“Lady!” said one of them. “Oh! she can wait. 
Our business is very important ; beside, we were in 
first — it is our right — and we shall stay in.” 

A droll smile came over Jerry’s face as he shut 
the door upon them. “All right, gentlemen, pray 
stay in as long as it suits you. I can wait while you 
rest yourselves,” and, turning his back upon them, 
he walked up to the young woman, who was stand- 
ing near me. “They’ll soon be gone,” he said, 
laughing. “Don’t trouble yourself, my dear.” 

And they soon were gone, for when they under- 
stood Jerry’s dodge, they got out, calling him all 
sorts of bad names and blustering about his num- 
ber, and getting a summons. After this little stop- 
page, we were soon on our way to the hospital, go- 
ing as much as possible through by-streets. Jerry 
rang the great bell and helped the young woman 
out. 


303 


BLACK BEAUTY 


“Thank you a thousand times,” she said. “I 
could never have got here alone.” 

“You’re kindly welcome, and I hope the dear 
child will soon get better.” 

He watched her go in at the door, and gently he 
said to himself, “Inasmuch as ye have done it to 
one of the least of these.” Then he patted my neck, 
which was always his way when anything pleased 
him. 

The rain was now coming down fast, and just as 
we were leaving the hospital the door opened again, 
and a porter called out, “Cab!” We stopped, and 
a lady came down the steps. Jerry seemed to know 
her at once. She put back her veil and said, “Bar- 
ker! Jeremiah Barker! is it you? I am very glad 
to find you here. You are just the friend I want, 
for it is very difficult to get a cab in this part of 
London to-day.” 

“I shall be proud to serve you, ma’am. I am 
right glad I happened to be here. Where may I 
take you to, ma’am?” 

“To the Paddington Station, and then, if we 
304 


BLACK BEAUTY 


are in good time, as I think we shall be, you shall 
tell me all about Mary and the children.” 

We got to the station in good time, and, being 
under shelter, the lady stood a good while talking 
to Jerry. I found she had been Polly’s mistress, 
and after many inquiries about her, she said : 

“How do you find the cab work suits you in win- 
ter? I know Mary was rather anxious about you 
last year.” 

“Yes, ma’am, she was. I had a bad cough that 
followed me up quite into the warm weather, and 
when I am kept out late, she does worry herself 
a good deal. You see, ma’am, it is all hours and 
all weathers, and that does try a man’s constitu- 
tion; but I am getting on pretty well, and I should 
feel quite lost if I had not horses to look after. I 
was brought up to it, and I am afraid I should not 
do so well at anything else.” 

“Well, Barker,” she said, “ it would be a great 
pity that you should seriously risk your health in 
this work, not only for your own, but for Mary and 
the children’s sake. There are many places where 


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BLACK BEAUTY 


good drivers or good grooms are wanted, and if 
ever you think you ought to give up this cab work, 
let me know.” Then sending some kind messages to 
Mary, she put something into his hand, saying, 
“There is five shillings each for the two children. 
Mary will know how to spend it.” 

Jerry thanked her and seemed much pleased, and, 
turning out of the station, we at last reached home, 
anfi I, at least, was tired. 


306 


CHAPTER XLIV 


OLD CAPTAIN AND HIS SUCCESSOR 

C APTAIN and I were great friends. He 
was a noble old fellow, and he was very 
good company. I never thought that he 
would have to leave his home and go down the hill, 
but his turn came, and this was how it happened. I 
was not there, but I heard all about it. 

He and Jerry had taken a party to the great rail- 
way station over London Bridge, and were coming 
back, somewhere between the bridge and the Monu- 
ment, when Jerry saw a brewer’s empty dray com- 
ing along, drawn by two powerful horses. The 
drayman was lashing his horses with his heavy 
whip. The dray was light, and they started off at 
a furious rate. The man had no control over them, 
and the street was full of traffic. One young girl 
was knocked down and run over, and the next mo- 
ment they dashed up against our cab; both the 
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wheels were torn off and the cab was thrown over. 
Captain was dragged down, the shafts splintered, 
and one of them ran into his side. Jerry, too, was 
thrown, but was only bruised. Nobody could tell 
how he escaped; he always said ’twas a miracle. 
When poor Captain was gotten up, he was found 
to be very much cut and knocked about. Jerry 
led him home gently, and a sad sight it was to see 
the blood soaking into his white coat and dropping 
from his side and shoulder. The drayman was 
proved to be very drunk, and was fined, and the 
brewer had to pay damages to our master; but 
there was no one to pay damages to poor Cap-, 
tain. 

The farrier and Jerry did the best they could to 
ease his pain and make him comfortable. The fly 
had to be mended, and for several days I did not 
go out, and Jerry earned nothing. The first time 
we went to the stand after the accident, the Gov- 
ernor came up to hear how Captain was. 

“He’ll never get over it,” said Jerry, “at least, 
not for my work, so the farrier said this morning. 

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BLACK BEAUTY 


He says he may do for carting, and that sort of 
work. It has put me out very much. Carting, in- 
deed! I’ve seen what horses come to at that work 
round London. I only wish all the drunkards could 
be put in a lunatic asylum, instead of being allowed 
to run foul of so'ber people. If they would break 
their own bones, and smash their own carts, and 
lame their own horses, that would be their own 
affair, and we might let them alone, but it seems 
to me that the innocent always suffer; and then they 
talk about compensation! You can’t make com- 
pensation — there’s all the trouble, and vexation, 
and loss of time, besides losing a good horse that’s 
like an old friend — it’s nonsense talking of compen- 
sation! If there’s one devil that I should like to 
see in the bottomless pit more than another, it’s 
the drink devil.” 

“I say, Jerry,” said the Governor, “you are 
treading pretty hard on my toes, you know. I’m 
not so good as you are, more shame for me. I wish 
I was.” 

“Well,” said Jerry, “why don’t you cut with it, 
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Governor? You are too good a man to be the slave 
of such a thing.” 

“I’m a great fool, Jerry, but I tried once for 
two days, and I thought I should have died. How 
did you do?” 

“I had hard work at it for several weeks. You 
see, I never did get drunk, but I found that I was 
not my own master, and that, when the craving 
came on, it was hard work to say ‘no.’ I saw that 
one of us must knock under — the drink devil or 
Jerry Barker — and I said that it should not be 
Jerry Barker, God helping me; but it was a strug- 
gle, and I wanted all the help I could get, for till 
I tried to break the habit I did not know how 
strong it was ; but then, Polly took such pains that 
I should have good food, and, when the craving 
came on, I used to get a cup of coffee, or some 
peppermint, or read a bit in my book, and that was 
a help to me. Sometimes I had to say over and 
over to myself, ‘Give up the drink or lose your 
soul? Give up the drink or break Polly’s heart?’ 
But, thanks be to God, and my dear wife, my chains 
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were broken, and now for ten years I have not 
tasted a drop, and never wish for it.” 

“I’ve a great mind to try at it,” said Grant, “for 
’tis a poor thing not to be one’s own master.” 

“Do, Governor, do, you’ll never repent it, and 
what a help it would be to some of the poor fellows 
in our rank if they saw you do without it. I know 
there’s two or three would like to keep out of that 
tavern if they could.” 

At first Captain seemed to do well, but he was 
a very old horse, and it was only his wonderful con- 
stitution, and Jerry’s care, that had kept him up 
at the cab work so long. Now he broke down very 
much. The farrier said he might mend up enough 
to sell for a few pounds, but Jerry said, no! a few 
pounds got by selling a good old servant into hard 
work and misery would canker all the rest of his 
money, and he thought the kindest thing he could 
do for the fine old fellow would be to put a sure 
bullet through his heart, and then he would never 
suffer more, for he did not know where to find a 
kind master for the rest of his days. 

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The day after this was decided, Harry took me 
to the forge for some new shoes. When I returned, 
Captain was gone. I and the family all felt it very 
much. 

Jerry had now to look out for another horse, and 
he soon heard of one through an acquaintance who 
was under-groom in a nobleman’s stables. He 
was a valuable young horse, but he had run away, 
smashed into another carriage, flung his lordship 
out, and so cut and blemished himself that he was 
no longer fit for a gentleman’s stables, and the 
coachman had orders to look round and sell him 
as well as he could. 

“I can do with high spirits,” said Jerry, “if a 
horse is not vicious or hard-mouthed.” 

“There is not a bit of vice in him,” said the man. 
“His mouth is very tender, and I think myself that 
was the cause of the accident. You see, he had just 
been clipped, and the weather was bad, and he had 
not had exercise enough, and, when he did go out, 
he was as full of spring as a balloon. Our gov- 
ernor (the coachman, I mean) had him harnessed 
312 



“Harry took me to the forge.” 






















































































































































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: M 

















































































































































BLACK BEAUTY 


in as tight and strong as he could, with the martin- 
gale and the bearing rein, a very sharp curb, and 
the reins put in at the bottom bar. It is my belief 
that it made the horse mad, being tender in the 
mouth and so full of spirit.” 

“Likely enough. I’ll come and see him,” said 
Jerry. 

The next day Hotspur — that was his name — 
came home. He was a fine, brown horse, without 
a white hair in him, as tall as Captain, with a very 
handsome head, and only five years old. I gave 
him a friendly greeting by way of good fellowship, 
but did not ask him any questions. The first night 
he was very restless. Instead of lying down, he 
kept jerking his halter rope up and down through 
the ring, and knocking the block about against the 
manger so that I could not sleep. However, 
the next day, after five or six hours in the cab, he 
came in quiet and sensible. Jerry patted and 
talked to him a good deal, and very soon they un- 
derstood each other, and Jerry said that with an 
easy bit, and plenty of work, he would be as gen- 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


tie as a lamb, and that it was an ill wind that blew 
nobody good, for if his lordship had lost a hundred- 
guinea favorite, the cabman had gained a good 
horse with all his strength in him. 

Hotspur thought it a great come-down to be a 
cab horse, and was disgusted at standing in the 
rank, but he confessed to me at the end of the week 
that an easy mouth and a free head made up for a 
great deal, and, after all, the work was not so de- 
grading as having one’s head and tail fastened to 
each other at the saddle. In fact, he settled in well, 
and Jerry liked him very much. 


316 


CHAPTER XLV 


jerry's new year 

C HRISTMAS and the New Year are very 
merry times for some people, but for cab- 
men and cabmen’s horses it is no holiday, 
though it may be a harvest. There are so many 
parties, balls and places of amusement open, that 
the work is hard and often late. Sometimes driver 
and horse have to wait for hours in the rain or 
frost, shivering with cold, while the merry people 
within are dancing away to the music. I wonder 
if the beautiful ladies ever think of the weary cab- 
man waiting on his box, and his patient beast 
standing till his legs get stiff with cold. 

I had now most of the evening work, as I was 
well accustomed to standing, and Jerry was also 
more afraid of Hotspur taking cold. We had a 
great deal of late work in the Christmas week, and 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


Jerry’s cough was bad; but however late we were, 
Polly sat up for him, and came out with the lantern 
to meet him, looking anxious and troubled. 

On the evening of the New Year, we had to take 
two gentlemen to a house in one of the West End 
squares. We set them down at nine o’clock and 
were told to come again at eleven. “But,” said one 
of them, “as it is a card party, you may have to wait 
a few minutes, but don’t be late.” 

As the clock struck eleven we were at the door, 
for J erry was always punctual. The clock chimed 
the quarters — one, two, three, and then struck 
twelve, but the door did not open. 

The wind had been very changeable, with squalls 
of rain during the day, but now it came on sharp, 
driving sleet, which seemed to come all the way 
round. It was very cold, and there was no shel- 
ter. J erry got off his box and came and pulled one 
of my cloths a little more over my neck; then he 
took a turn or two up and down, stamping his feet; 
then he began to beat his arms, but that set him off 
coughing, so he opened the cab door and sat at the 


318 


BLACK BEAUTY 


bottom, with his feet on the pavement, and was a 
little sheltered. Still the clock chimed the quarters, 
and no one came. At half -past twelve, he rang the 
bell and asked the servant if he would be wanted 
that night. 

“Oh, yes, you’ll be wanted safe enough,” said 
the man. “You must not go, it will soon be over,” 
and again Jerry sat down, but his voice was so 
hoarse I could hardly hear him. 

At a quarter past one the door opened, and the 
two gentlemen came out. They got into the cab 
without a word, and told Jerry where to drive; that 
was nearly two miles. My legs were numb with 
cold, and I thought I should have stumbled. When 
the men got out, they never said they were sorry 
to have kept us waiting so long, but were angry at 
the charge. However, as Jerry never charged 
more than was his due, so he never took less, and 
they had to pay for the two hours and a quarter 
waiting; but it was hard-earned money to J erry. 

At last we got home. He could hardly speak, 
and his cough was dreadful. Polly asked no ques- 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


tions, but opened the door and held the lantern for 
him. 

“Can’t I do something?” she said. 

“Yes, get Jack something warm, and then boil 
me some gruel.” 

This was said in a hoarse whisper. He could 
hardly get his breath, but he gave me a rub down 
as usual, and even went up into the hayloft for an 
extra bundle of straw for my bed. Polly brought 
me a warm mash that made me comfortable, and 
then they locked the door. 

It was late the next morning before any one 
came, and then it was only Harry. He cleaned us 
and fed us, and swept out the stalls; then he put 
the straw back again as if it was Sunday. He was 
very still, and neither whistled nor sang. At noon 
he came again and gave us our food and water. 
This time Dolly came with him. She was crying, 
and I could gather from what they said that Jerry 
was dangerously ill, and the doctor said it was a 
bad case. So two days passed, and there was great 
trouble indoors. We only saw Harry, and some- 
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times Dolly. I think she came for company, for 
Polly was always with Jerry, and he had to be kept 
very quiet. 

On the third day, while Harry was in the stable, 
a tap came* at the door, and Governor Grant 
came in. 

“I wouldn’t go to the house, my boy,” he said, 
“but I want to know how your father is.” 

“He is very bad,” said Harry. “He can’t be 
much worse. They call it ‘bronchitis.’ The doc- 
tor thinks it will turn one way or another to- 
night.” 

“That’s bad, very bad,” said Grant, shaking his 
head. “I know two men who died of that last 
week. It takes ’em off in no time ; but while there’s 
life, there’s hope, so you must keep up your spir- 
its.” 

“Yes,” said Harry quickly, “and the doctor said 
that father had a better chance than most men, be- 
cause he didn’t drink. He said yesterday the fever 
was so high that if father had been a drinking man 
it would have burned him up like a piece of paper ; 

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BLACK BEAUTY 


but I believe he thinks he will get over it. Don’t 
you think he will, Mr. Grant?” 

The Governor looked puzzled. 

“If there’s any rule that good men should get 
over these things, I am sure he will, my boy. He’s 
the best man I know. I’ll look in early to-mor- 
row.” 

Early next morning he was there. 

“Well?” said he. 

“Father is better,” said Harry. “Mother hopes 
he will get over it.” 

“Thank God!” said the Governor, “and now you 
must keep him warm, and keep his mind easy, and 
that brings me to the horses. You see. Jack will 
be all the better for the rest of a week or two in a 
warm stable, and you can easily take him a turn up 
and down the street to stretch his legs; but this 
young one, if he does not get work, he will soon be 
all up on end, as you may say, and will be rather 
too much for you ; and when he does go out, there’ll 
be an accident.” 

“It is like that now,” said Harry. “I have kept 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


him short of corn, but he’s so full of spirit I don’t 
know what to do with him.” 

“Just so,” said Grant. “Now look here, will you 
tell your mother that if she is agreeable, I will 
come for him every day till something is arranged, 
and take him for a good spell of work, and what- 
ever he earns I’ll bring your mother half of it, and 
that will help with the horses’ feed. Your father is 
in a good club, I know, but that won’t keep the 
horses, and they’ll be eating their heads off all this 
time. I’ll come at noon and hear what she says,” 
and without waiting for Harry’s thanks, he was 
gone. 

At noon I think he went and saw Polly, for he 
and Harry came to the stable together, harnessed 
Hotspur and took him out. 

For a week or more he came for Hotspur, and 
when Harry thanked him or said anything about 
his kindness, he laughed it off, saying it was all 
good luck for him, for his horses were wanting a 
little rest which they would not otherwise have had. 

Jerry grew better steadily, but the doctor said 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


that he must never go back to the cab work again 
if he wished to be an old man. The children had 
many consultations together about what father and 
mother would do, and how they could help to earn 
money. 

One afternoon Hotspur was brought in very wet 
and dirty. 

“The streets are nothing but slush,” said the 
Governor. “It will give you a good warming, my 
boy, to get him clean and dry.” 

“All right, Governor,” said Harry. “I shall not 
leave him till he is. You know I have been trained 
by my father.” 

“I wish all the boys had been trained like you,” 
said the Governor. 

While Harry was sponging off the mud from 
Hotspur’s body and legs, Dolly came in, looking 
very full of something. 

“Who lives at Fairstowe, Harry? Mother has 
got a letter from Fairstowe. She seemed so glad, 
and ran upstairs to father with it.” 

“Don’t you know? Why, it is the name of Mrs. 

324 


BLACK BEAUTY 


Fowler’s place — mother’s old mistress, you know — 
the lady that father met last summer, who sent you 
and me five shillings each.” 

“Oh! Mrs. Fowler. Of course, I know all about 
her. I wonder what she is writing to mother 
about.” 

“Mother wrote to her last week,” said Harry. 
“You know, she told father if ever he gave up the 
cab work she would like to know. I wonder what 
she says. Run in and see, Dolly.” 

Harry scrubbed away at Hotspur with a huishl 
huish! like any old ostler. 

In a few minutes Dolly came dancing into the 
stable. 

“Oh! Harry, there never was anything so beau- 
tiful. Mrs. Fowler says we are all to go and live 
near her. There is a cottage now empty that will 
just suit us, with a garden, and a hen house, and 
apple trees, and everything! and her coachman is 
going away in the spring, and then she will want 
father in his place; and there are good families 
round, where you can get a place in the garden, or 
325 


BLACK BEAUTY 


the stable, or as a page boy; and there’s a good 
school for me, and mother is laughing and crying 
by turns, and father does look so happy!” 

“That’s uncommon jolly,” said Harry, “and just 
the right thing, I should say. It will suit father 
and mother both, but I don’t intend to be a page 
boy, with tight clothes and rows of buttons. I’ll 
be a groom or a gardener.” 

It was quickly settled that as soon as Jerry was 
well enough, they should remove to the country, 
and that the cab and horses should be sold as soon 
as possible. 

This was heavy news for me, for I was not young 
now, and could not look for any improvement in 
my condition. Since I left Birtwick, I had never 
been so happy as with my dear master, Jerry; but 
three years of cab work, even under the best condi- 
tions, will tell on one’s strength, and I felt that I 
was not the horse that I had been. 

Grant said at once that he would take Hotspur, 
and there were men on the stand who would have 
bought me, but Jerry said I should not go to cab 
326 





“ She put her face close to my neck and kissed me 
























BLACK BEAUTY 


work again with just anybody, and the Governor 
promised to find a place for me where I should be 
comfortable. 

The day came for going away. Jerry had not 
been allowed to go out yet, * and I never saw him 
after that New Year’s Eve. Polly and the chil- 
dren came to bid me good-by. “Poor old Jackl 
dear old Jack! I wish we could take you with us,” 
she said, and then, laying her hand on my mane, 
she put her face close to my neck and kissed me. 
Dolly was crying, and kissed me, too. Harry 
stroked me a great deal, but said nothing, only he 
seemed very sad, and so I was led away to my new 
place. 


327 


PART IV 


CHAPTER XLVI 

JAKES AND THE LADY 

I WAS sold to a corn dealer and baker, whom 
Jerry knew, and with him he thought I 
should have good food and fair work. In the 
first he was quite right, and if my master had al- 
ways been on the premises I do not think I should 
have been over-loaded, but there was a foreman 
who was always hurrying and driving every one, 
and frequently, when I had quite a full load, he 
would order something else to be taken on. My 
carter, whose name was Jakes, often said it was 
more than I ought to take, but the other always 
overruled him. “ ’Twas no use going twice when 
once would do, and he chose to get business for- 
ward.” 

Jakes, like the other carters, always had the bear- 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


ing rein up, which prevented me from drawing 
easily, and by the time I had been there three or 
four months, I found the work telling very much 
on my strength. 

One day I was loaded more than usual, and part 
of the road was a steep uphill. I used all my 
strength, but I could not get on, and was obliged 
continually to stop. This did not please my driver, 
and he laid his whip on badly. “Get on, you lazy 
fellow,” he said, “or I’ll make you.” 

Again I started the heavy load, and struggled on 
a few yards; again the whip came down, and 
again I struggled forward. The pain of that great 
cart whip was sharp, but my mind was hurt quite 
as much as my poor sides. To be punished and 
abused when I was doing my very best was so hard 
it took the heart out of me. A third time he was 
flogging me cruelly, when a lady stepped quickly 
up to him, and said in a sweet, earnest voice: 

“Oh! pray do not whip your good horse any 
more. I am sure he is doing all he can, and the 
road is very steep; I am sure he is doing his best. 

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BLACK BEAUTY 


“If doing his best won’t get this load up, he 
must do something more than his best ; that’s all I 
know, ma’am,” said Jakes. 

“But is it not a very heavy load for a horse?” she 
said. 

“Yes, yes, too heavy,” he said, “but that’s not 
my fault. The foreman came just as we were start- 
ing, and would have three hundredweight more put 
on to save him trouble, and I must get on with it 
as well as I can.” 

He was raising the whip again, when the lady 
said: 

“Pray, stop. I think I can help you if you will 
let me.” 

The man laughed. 

“You see,” she said, “you do not give him a fair 
chance. He cannot use all his power with his head 
held back as it is with that bearing rein. If you 
would take it off, I am sure he would do better — 
do try it,” she said persuasively. “I should be very 
glad if you would.” 

“Well, well,” said Jakes, with a short laugh, 


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BLACK BEAUTY 


“anything to please a lady, of course. How far 
would you wish it down, ma’am?” 

“Quite down, give him his head altogether.” 

The rein was taken off, and in a moment I put 
my head down to my very knees. What a comfort 
it was ! Then I tossed it up and down several times 
to get the aching stiffness out of my neck. 

“Poor fellow! that is what you wanted,” said she, 
patting and stroking me with her gentle hand. 
“And now, if you will speak kindly to him and 
lead him on, I believe he will be able to do better.” 

Jakes took the rein — “Come on, Blackie.” I 
put down my head and threw my whole weight 
against the collar. I spared no strength; the load 
moved on, and I pulled it steadily up the hill, and 
then stopped to take breath. 

The lady had walked along the footpath, and 
now came across into the road. She stroked and 
patted my neck, as I had not been patted for many 
a long day. 

“You see, he was quite willing when you gave 
him the chance. I am sure he is a fine-tempered 
831 


BLACK BEAUTY 


creature, and I daresay has known better days. 
You won’t put that rein on again, will you?” for he 
was just going to hitch it up on the old plan. 

“Well, ma’am, I can’t deny that having his head 
has helped him up the hill, and I’ll remember it 
another time, and thank you, ma’am ; but if he went 
without a bearing rein, I should be the laughing 
stock of all the carters. It is the fashion, you see.” 

“Is it not better,” she said, “to lead a good fash- 
ion than to follow a bad one? A great many gen- 
tlemen do not use bearing reins now. Our carriage 
horses have not worn them for fifteen years, and 
work with much less fatigue than those who have 
them. Besides,” she added, in a very serious voice, 
“we have no right to distress any of God’s creatures 
without a very good reason. We call them dumb 
animals, and so they are, for they cannot tell us 
how they feel, but they do not suffer less because 
they have no words. But I must not detain you 
now. I thank you for trying my plan with your 
good horse, and I am sure you will find it far better 
than the whip. Good day,” and with another soft 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


pat on my neck she stepped lightly across the path, 
and I saw her no more. 

“That was a real lady, I’ll be bound for it,” said 
Jakes to himself. “She spoke just as polite as if 
I was a gentleman, and I’ll try her plan uphill, 
at any rate,” and I must do him the justice to say 
that he let my rein out several holes, and going 
uphill after that he always gave me my head; but 
the heavy loads went on. Good feed and fair rest 
will keep up one’s strength under full work, but 
no horse can stand against overloading, and I was 
getting so thoroughly pulled down from this cause 
that a younger horse was bought in my place. I 
may as well mention here what I suffered at this 
time from another cause I had heard horses speak 
of it, but had never myself experience of the evil. 
This was a badly lighted stable. There was only 
one very small window at the end, and the conse- 
quence was that the stalls were almost dark. 

Besides the depressing effect this had on my 
spirits, it very much weakened my sight, and when 
I was suddenly brought out of the darkness into 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


the glare of daylight, it was very painful to my 
eyes. Several times I stumbled over the threshold, 
and could scarcely see where I was going. 

I believe, had I stayed there very long, I should 
have become purblind, and that would have been a 
great misfortune, for I have heard men say that a 
stone-blind horse was safer to drive than one which 
had imperfect sight, as it generally makes them 
very timid. However, I escaped without any per- 
manent injury to my sight, and was sold to a large 
cab owner. 


334 


CHAPTER XLVII 


HARD TIMES 

I SHALL never forget my new master. He 
had black eyes and a hooked nose, his mouth 
was as full of teeth as a bulldog’s, and his 
voice was as harsh as the grinding of cart wheels 
over gravel stones. His name was Nicholas Skin- 
ner, and I believe he was the same man that poor 
Seedy Sam drove for. 

I have heard men say that seeing is believing, but 
I should say that feeling is believing, for much as I 
had seen before, I never knew till now the utter 
misery of a cab horse’s life. 

Skinner had a low set of cabs and a low set of 
drivers. He was hard on the men, and the men 
were hard on the horses. In this place we had no 
Sunday rest, and it was in the heat of summer. 

Sometimes on a Sunday morning, a party of fast 
men would hire the cab for the day, four of them 
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BLACK BEAUTY 


inside and another with the driver, and I had to 
take them ten or fifteen miles out into the country, 
and back again. Never would any of them get 
down to walk up a hill, let it be ever so steep, or 
the day ever so hot — unless, indeed, when the driver 
was afraid I should not manage it, and sometimes 
I was so fevered and worn that I could hardly 
touch my food. How I used to long for the nice 
bran mash with nitre in it that Jerry used to give us 
on Saturday nights in hot weather, that used to 
cool us down and make us so comfortable. Then 
we had two nights and a whole day for unbroken 
rest, and on Monday morning we were as fresh as 
young horses again; but here, there was no rest, 
and my driver was just as hard as his master. He 
had a cruel whip with something so sharp at the 
end that it sometimes drew blood, and he would 
even whip me under the belly and flip the lash out 
at my head. Indignities like these took the heart 
out of me terribly, but still I did my best and never 
hung back ; for, as poor Ginger said, it was no use ; 
men are the strongest. 


336 


BLACK BEAUTY 


My life was now so utterly wretched that I 
wished I might, like Ginger, drop down dead at my 
work, and be out of my misery, and one day my 
wish very nearly came to pass. 

I went on the stand at eight in the morning, and 
had done a good share of work, when we had to 
take a fare to the railway. A long train was just 
expected in, so my driver pulled up at the back of 
some of the outside cabs to take the chance of a 
return fare. It was a very heavy train, and as all 
the cabs were soon engaged ours was called for. 
There was a party of four — a noisy, blustering 
man, with a lady, a little boy, and a young girl, and 
a great deal of luggage. The lady and the boy 
got into the cab, and while the man ordered about 
the luggage, the young girl came and looked at me. 

“Papa,” she said, “I am sure this poor horse can- 
not take us and all our luggage so far, he is so very 
weak and worn out. Do look at him.” 

“Oh! he’s all right, miss,” said my driver. “He’s 
strong enough.” 

The porter, who was pulling about some heavy 
337 


BLACK BEAUTY 


boxes, suggested to the gentleman, as there was 
so much luggage, whether he would not take a sec- 
ond cab. 

“Can your horse do it, or can’t he?” said the blus- 
tering man. 

“Oh! he can do it all right, sir. Send up the 
boxes, porter. He could take more than that,” and 
he helped to haul up a box so heavy that I could 
feel the springs go down. 

“Papa, papa, do take a second cab,” said the 
young girl, in a beseeching tone. “I am sure we 
are wrong; I am sure it is very cruel.” 

“Nonsense, Grace, get in at once, and don’t 
make all this fuss. A pretty thing it would be if 
a man of business had to examine every cab horse 
before he hired it — the man knows his own business, 
of course. There, get in and hold your tongue!” 

My gentle friend had to obey, and box after box 
was dragged up and lodged on the top of the cab, 
or settled by the side of the driver. At last all 
was ready, and with his usual jerk at the rein, and 
slash of tl\e whip, he drove out of the station. 

338 


BLACK BEAUTY 


‘ — 9 

The load was very heavy, and I had had neither 
food nor rest since the morning, but I did my best, 
as I always had done, in spite of cruelty and in- 
justice. 

I got along fairly till we came to Ludgate 
Hill, but there the heavy load and my own exhaus- 
tion were too much. I was struggling to keep on, 
goaded by constant chucks of the rein and use of 
the whip, when, in a single moment — I cannot tell 
how— my feet slipped from under me, and I fell 
heavily to the ground on my side. The suddenness 
and the force with which I fell seemed to beat all 
the breath out of my body. I lay perfectly still; 
indeed, I had no power to move, and I thought now 
I was going to die. I heard a sort of confusion 
round me, loud, angry voices, and the getting down 
of the luggage, but it was all like a dream. I 
thought I heard that sweet, pitiful voice saying, 
“Oh! that poor horse! it is all our fault.” Some 
one came and loosened the throat strap of my 
bridle, and undid the traces which kept the collar 
so tight upon me. Some one said, He s dead, he 11 


339 


BLACK BEAUTY 


never get up again/’ Then I could hear a police- 
man giving orders, but I did not even open my 
eyes. I could only draw a gasping breath now 
and then. Some cold water was thrown over my 
head, and some cordial was poured into my mouth, 
and something was covered over me. I cannot tell 
how long I lay there, but I found my life coming 
back, and a kind-voiced man was patting me and 
encouraging me to rise. After some more cordial 
had been given me, and after one or two attempts, 
I staggered to my feet, and was gently led to some 
stables which were close by. Here I was put into 
a well-littered stall, and some warm gruel 
was brought to me, which I drank most thank- 
fully. 

In the evening I was sufficiently recovered to be 
led back to Skinner’s stables, where I think they 
did the best for me they could. In the morning 
Skinner came with a farrier to look at me. He ex- 
amined me very closely, and said : 

“This is a case of overwork more than disease, 
and if you could give him a run-off for six months 
340 


BLACK BEAUTY 


he would be able to work again; but now there is 
not an ounce of strength in him.” 

“Then he must just go to the dogs,” said Skin- 
ner. “I have no meadows to nurse sick horses in — 
he might get well or he might not. That sort of 
thing don’t suit my business; my plan is to work 
’em as long as they’ll go, and then sell ’em for 
what they’ll fetch, at the knacker’s or elsewhere.” 

“If he was broken- winded,” said the farrier, “you 
had better have him killed out of hand, but he is 
not. There is a sale of horses coming off in about 
ten days. If you rest him and feed him up, he may 
pick up, and you may get more than his skin is 
worth, at any rate.” 

Upon this advice, Skinner rather unwillingly, I 
think, gave orders that I should be well fed and 
cared for, and the stable man, happily for me, car- 
ried out the orders with a much better will than his 
master had in giving them. Ten days of perfect 
rest, plenty of good oats, hay, bran mashes, with 
boiled linseed mixed in them, did more to get up 
my condition than anything else could have done. 

341 


BLACK BEAUTY 


Those linseed mashes were delicious, and I began to 
think, after all, it might be better to live than go 
to the dogs. When the twelfth day after the acci- 
dent came, I was taken to the sale, a few miles out 
of London. I felt that any change from my pres- 
ent place must be an improvement, so I held up my 
head, and hoped for the best. 


342 


CHAPTER XLVIII 


FARMER THOROUGHGOOD AND HIS GRANDSON 
WILLIE 

A T THIS sale, of course, I found myself in 
company with the old, broken-down horses 
— some lame, some broken-winded, some 
old, and some that I am sure it would have been 
merciful to shoot. 

The buyers and sellers, too, many of them, 
looked not much better off than the poor beasts 
they were bargaining about. There were poor old 
men, trying to get a horse or pony for a few pounds 
that might drag about some little wood or coal cart. 
There were poor men trying to sell a worn-out 
beast for two or three pounds, rather than have 
the greater loss of killing him. Some of them 
looked as if poverty and hard times had hardened 
them all over; but there were others that I would 
343 


BLACK BEAUTY 


have willingly used the last of my strength in serv- 
ing; poor and shabby, but kind and human, with 
voices that I could trust. There was one tottering 
old man that took a great fancy to me, and I to 
him, but I was not strong enough — it was an anx- 
ious time. Coming from the better part of the 
fair, I noticed a man who looked like a gentleman 
farmer, with a young boy by his side. He had a 
broad back and round shoulders, a kind, ruddy 
face, and he wore a broad-brimmed hat. When he 
came up to me and my companions, he stood still, 
and gave a pitiful look round upon us. I saw his 
eye rest on me. I had still a good mane and tail, 
which did something for my appearance. I pricked 
my ears and looked at him. 

“There’s a horse, Willie, that has known better 
days.” 

“Poor old fellow!” said the boy. “Do you think, 
grandpapa, he was ever a carriage horse?” 

“Oh, yes! my boy,” said the farmer, coming 
closer. “He might have been anything when he 
was young; look at his nostrils and his ears, the 
344 


BLACK BEAUTY 


shape of his neck and shoulder. There’s a deal of 
breeding about that horse.” He put out his hand 
and gave me a kind pat on the neck. I put out my 
nose in answer to his kindness. The boy stroked 
my face. 

“Poor old fellow! see, grandpapa, how well he 
understands kindness. Could not you buy him 
and make him young again, as you did with Lady- 
bird?” 

“My dear boy, I can’t make all old horses young. 
Besides, Ladybird was not so very old, as she was 
run down and badly used.” 

“Well, grandpapa, I don’t believe that this one 
is old. Look at his mane and tail. I wish you 
would look into his mouth, and then you could tell; 
though he is so very thin, his eyes are not sunk like 
some old horses.” 

The old gentleman laughed. “Bless the boy! he 
is as horsey as his old grandfather.’ 

“But do look at his mouth, grandpapa, and ask 
the price. I am sure he would grow young in our 
meadows.” 


345 


BLACK BEAUTY 


The man who had brought me for sale now put 
in his word. 

“The young gentleman’s a real knowing one, 
sir. Now, the fact is, this ’ere hoss is just pulled 
down with overwork in the cabs. He’s not an old 
one, and I heerd as how the vetenary should say 
that a six months’ run-off would set him right up, 
being as how his wind was not broken. I’ve had 
the tending of him these ten days past, and a grate- 
fuller, pleasanter animal I never met with, and 
’twould be worth a gentleman’s while to give a 
five-pound note for him, and let him have a chance. 
He’d be worth twenty pounds next spring.” 

The old gentleman laughed, and the little boy 
looked up eagerly. 

“Oh! grandpapa, did you not say the colt sold 
for five pounds more than you expected? you 
would not be poorer if you did buy this one.” 

The farmer slowly felt my legs, which were 
much swelled and strained; then he looked at my 
mouth — “Thirteen or fourteen, I should say. Just 
trot him out, will you?” 


346 


BLACK BEAUTY 


I arched my poor, thin neck, raised my tail a 
little, and threw out my legs as well as I could, 
for they were very stiff. 

“What is the lowest you will take for him?” said 
the farmer, as I came back. 

“Five pounds, sir; that was the lowest price my 
master set.” 

“ ’Tis a speculation,” said the old gentleman, 
shaking his head, but at the same time slowly draw- 
ing out his purse, “quite a speculation! Have you 
any more business here?” he said, counting the 
sovereigns into his hand. 

“No, sir, I can take him for you to the inn, if 
you please.” 

“Do so, I am now going there.” 

They walked forward, and I was led behind. 
The boy could hardly control his delight, and the 
old gentleman seemed to enjoy his pleasure. I 
had a good feed at the inn, and was then gently 
ridden home by a servant of my new master’s and 
turned into a large meadow with a. shed in one cor- 
ner of it. 


347 


BLACK BEAUTY 


Mr. Thoroughgood, for that was the name of my ' 
benefactor, gave orders that I should have hay and 
oats every night and morning, and the run of the 
meadow during the day, and “you, Willie,” said 
he, “must take the oversight of him. I give him 
in charge to you.” 

The boy was proud of his charge, and undertook 
it in all seriousness. There was not a day when 
he did not pay me a visit, sometimes picking me out 
from among the other horses, and giving me a bit 
of carrot or something good, or sometimes stand- 
ing by me while I ate my oats. He always came 
with kind words and caresses, and, of course, I 
grew very fond of him. He called me Old Crony, 
as I used to come to him in the field and follow 
him about. Sometimes he brought his grandfather, 
who always looked closely at my legs. 

“This is our point, Willie,” he would say, “but 
he is improving so steadily that I think we shall 
see a change for the better in the spring.” 

The perfect rest, the good food, the soft turf, 
and gentle exercise soon began to tell on my 
348 



At Farmer Thoroughgood’s. 









BLACK BEAUTY 


condition and my spirits. I had a good constitu- 
tion from my mother, and I was never strained 
when I was young, so that I had a better chance 
than many horses who have been worked before 
they came to their full strength. During the win- 
ter my legs improved so much that I began to feel 
quite young again. The spring came round, and 
one day in March Mr. Thoroughgood determined 
that he would try me in the phaeton. I was well 
pleased, and he and Willie drove me a few miles. 
My legs were not stiff now, and I did the work 
with perfect ease. 

“He’s growing young, Willie. We must give 
him a little gentle work now, and by midsummer 
he will be as good as Ladybird. He has a beauti- 
ful mouth and good paces; they can’t be better.” 

“Oh! grandpapa, how glad I am you bought 
him!” 

“So am I, my boy, but he has to thank you more 
than me. We must now be looking out for a quiet, 
genteel place for him, where he will be valued.” 


351 


CHAPTER XLIX 


MY LAST HOME 

O NE day during this summer the groom 
cleaned and dressed me with such ex- 
traordinary care that I thought some 
new change must be at hand. He trimmed my 
fetlocks and legs, passed the tarbrush over my 
hoofs, and even parted my forelock. I think the 
harness had an extra polish. Willie seemed half 
anxious, half merry, as he got into the chaise with 
his grandfather. 

“If the ladies take to him,” said the old gentle- 
man, “they’ll be suited, and he’ll be suited. We can 
but try.” 

At the distance of a mile or two from the village 
we came to a pretty, low house, with a lawn and 
shrubbery at the front and a drive up to the door. 
Willie rang the bell, and asked if Miss Blomefield, 
or Miss Ellen, was at home. Yes, they were. So, 
352 


BLACK BEAUTY 


while Willie stayed with me, Mr. Thoroughgood 
went into the house. In about ten minutes he re- 
turned, followed by three ladies. One tall, pale 
lady, wrapped in a white shawl, leaned on a 
younger lady, with dark eyes and a merry face. 
The other, a very stately looking person, was Miss 
Blomefield. They all came and looked at me and 
asked questions. The younger lady — that was 
Miss Ellen — took to me very much. She said she 
was sure she should like me, I had such a good 
face. The tall, pale lady said that she should al- 
ways be nervous in riding behind a horse that had 
once been down, as I might come down again, and 
if I did, she should never get over the fright. 

“You see, ladies,” said Mr. Thoroughgood, 
“many first-rate horses have had their knees broken 
through the carelessness of their drivers, without 
any fault of their own, and from what I see of this 
horse, I should say, that is his case; but, of course, 
I do not wish to influence you. If you incline, you 
can have him on trial, and then your coachman will 
see what he thinks of him.” 

353 


BLACK BEAUTY 


“You have always been such a good adviser to 
us about our horses,” said the stately lady, “that 
your recommendation would go a long way with 
me, and if my sister Lavinia has no objection to 
it, we will accept your offer of a trial with 
thanks.” 

It was then arranged that I should be sent for 
the next day. 

In the morning a smart-looking young man came 
for me. At first he looked pleased, but when he 
saw my knees he said, in a disappointed voice : 

“I didn’t think, sir, you would have recom- 
mended my ladies a blemished horse like that.” 

“Handsome is that handsome does,” said my 
master. “You are only taking him on trial, and I 
am sure you will do fairly by him, young man, and 
if he is not as safe as any horse you ever drove, 
send him back.” 

I was led home, placed in a comfortable stable, 
fed, and left to myself. The next day, when my 
groom was cleaning my face, he said : 

“That is just like the star that Black Beauty 
354 



“ Why Beauty! Beauty! Do you know me?” 









BLACK BEAUTY 


had; he is much the same height, too. I wonder 
where he is now.” 

A little further on he came to the place in my 
neck where I was bled, and where a little knot 
was left in the skin. He almost started, and began 
to look me over carefully, talking to himself. 

“White star in the forehead, one white foot on 
the offside, this little knot just in that place” — then 
looking at the middle of my back — “and as I am 
alive, there is that little patch of white hair that 
John used to call ‘Beauty’s threepenny bit.’ It 
must be Black Beauty! Why, Beauty! Beauty! 
do you know me? little Joe Green, that almost 
killed you?” And he began patting and patting 
me as if he was quite overjoyed. 

I could not say that I remembered him, for now 
he was a fine grown young fellow, with black whis- 
kers and a man’s voice, but I was sure he knew 
me, and that was Joe Green, and I was very glad. 
I put my nose up to him, and tried to say that we 
were friends. I never saw a man so pleased. 

“Give you a fair trial ! I should think so, indeed ! 

3 55 


BLACK BEAUTY 


I wonder who the rascal was that broke yOur knees* 
my old Beauty! You must have been badly served 
out somewhere. Well, well, it won’t be my fault 
if you haven’t good times of it now. I wish John 
Manly was here to see you.” 

In the afternoon I was put into a low park chair 
and brought to the door. Miss Ellen was going to 
try me, and Green went with her. I soon found 
that she was a good driver, and she seemed pleased 
with my paces. I heard Joe telling her about me, 
and that he was sure I was Squire Gordon’s old 
Black Beauty. 

When we returned, the other sisters came out to 
hear how I had behaved myself. She told them 
what she had just heard, and said: 

“I shall certainly write to Mrs. Gordon, and tell 
her that her favorite horse has come to us. How 
pleased she will be !” 

After this I was driven every day for a week 
or so, and as I appeared to be quite safe, Miss La- 
vinia at last ventured out in the small close 
carriage. After this it was quite decided to keep 
356 


BLACK BEAUTY 


me and call me by my old name of “Black 
Beauty.” 

I have now lived in this happy place a whole 
year. Joe is the best and kindest of grooms. My 
work is easy and pleasant, and I feel my strength 
and spirits all coming back again. Mr. Thorough- 
good said to Joe the other day: 

“In your place he will last till he is twenty years 
old — perhaps more.” 

Willie always speaks to me when he can, and 
treats me as his special friend. My ladies have 
promised that I shall never be sold, and so I have 
nothing to fear ; and here my story ends. My trou- 
bles are all over, and I am at home, and often be- 
fore I am quite awake, I fancy I am still in the 
orchard at Birtwick, standing with my old friends 
under the apple trees. 

THE END 


357 














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